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Photogravure by John Andrew and Son. — From a 
photograph from life, 1874. 



REMINISCENCES 



OP 



EDNAH DOW CHENEY 

(BORN LITTLEHALE) 




BOSTON: 

LEE & SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS. 

1902. 



THF LlBPtARY OF 

CONOnEGS, 
"Two Criwte Rfccsiv^n 

NOV, c?g't90? 

CLASW fil-XXc No. 
COPY B. 



T5u^^ 



Copyright, 1902, by 
Edxah Dow Cheney 

Published December, 1902 



UNIVERSITY PRESS • JOHN WILSON 
AND SON . CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A. 



Ui 



DEDICATION. 



To all who^ have loved me^ to all 7vhom I have loved, 

To all who have helped me by sympathy and by rebuke, by honest 

demand and by stern counsel, 

I GRATEFULLY DEDICATE THIS LIFE 

Which is gone through sunshine and shade 
to a peaceful end. 

" Life is earnest 
And the grave is not its goal." 

E. D. CHENEY. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

Genealogy x 

CHAPTER 

I. Birth and Childhood 1 

II. Girlhood 22 

III. Early Friends 41 

IV. After Marriage 59 

V. The School of Design 69 

VI. Anti-Slavery and Freedmen's Work .... 80 

VIT. Transcendentalism and Theodore Parker ... 99 

VIII. Concord School of Philosophy 119 

IX. Art 128 

X. Eeforms 147 

XL Conclusion 161 

APPENDIX 

Prayer I75 

Song 176 

" Beggar AT the Gate called Beautiful " 177 

Waiting Help 178 

I shall be Satisfied when I Awake with Thy Likeness . 179 

Transcendentalism 180 

Sarah Margaret Fuller 192 

The Reign of Womanhood 223 

To Mrs. Cheney 236 

vii 



CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Fiftieth Birthday 237 

Psychometric Readings 238 

Seth Wells Cheney 238 

Jane Cheney 239 

Sarah Margaret Fuller 240 

John Quincy Adams 244 

A. Bronson Alcott 246 

Extracts from Account-Book of S. S. Littlehale . 248 



INDEX 251 



Vlll 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



Ednah Dow Cheney. From a photograph from life, 

1874 Frontispiece 

Ednah Dow Cheney's House Titlepage 

Jeremiah Dow. By Mrs. Hildreth, about 1844 . Facing page 2 

Ednah Dow. About 1843. From a crayon por- 
trait by Mrs. Hildreth 

Sargent S. Littlehale. Photographed from a 
portrait by Page, 1846 

Ednah P. Littlehale. Photographed from a 
portrait by Page, 1846 

Seth W. Cheney. From a miniature painting 
by Dubourjal, 1834 

Ednah Dow Cheney. From a crayon portrait by 
S. W. Cheney, 1854 

Ednah P. Littlehale. From a crayon portrait 
by Harriet Cheney 

Margaret S. Cheney. Photographed from a 
portrait by Geo. Fuller, 1883 

Seth "W. Cheney. From a daguerreotype by 

Hawes " 120 

Helen P. Littlehale. 1854 " 128 



Margaret S. Cheney. From an ambrotype, 
1860 



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REMINISCENCES 



OF 



EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 




CHAPTER I. 

BIRTH AND CHILDHOOD. 



" The days, the precious days, we gladly let them fly, 
That still move precious fruit may ripen by-and-by, 
A rare and wondrous plant tiiat shall bloom out some night 
A child we 're training up, a book we long to write." 

RiJCKERT, Wisdom of the Brahmins. 

Jamaica Plain, A.^n\ 15, 1893. 
T HAVE so often been asked to write out my recollections of 
my (nearly) seventy years of life that I am tempted to take 
a day of enforced leisure to begin, at least, to recall the past. 
Alfieri says "a man writes a biography from self-love," and* 
also that he does not intend to speak of other people. But if 
I may hope to make my sketch interesting, it must be by telling 
of other people I have known ; for I have had a quiet life, with 
very little of either achievement or adventure in it. 

My genealogy offers little of interest. I belong to humble 
folks, and can trace my descent to neither William the Con- 
queror nor the "Mayflower." My mother's family, named Dow, 
removed from Massachusetts to New Hampshire. From the 
name I judge that they may have been of "our folks in 



2 EEMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

Holland." They certainly had the old Calvinistic traits, and 
were as rigid in their faith as the founders of New England. 
I have heard my mother tell how straight-backed her grand- 
father was, and how venerable he looked with his long white 
hair, as he walked out of the Baptist church when the bass-viol 
was brought in. He had a heart, though, like other men, and 
fell in love with a gay young woman who delighted to tease 
him by performing the rite of baptism on the cats of the family. 
He prayed much over the question of marrying such an uu- 
regenerate maiden, but concluded that it might prove for the 
good of her soul, and was greatly rejoiced when after their 
marriage she became regularly converted and joined his church. 
He was then supremely happy. Living on a farm they had 
pretty hard times through the Eevolution. Some of mother's 
stories are preserved in my story of " Sally Williams." 

My grandmother's name was Ednah Parker. Her family was 
undoubtedly English and of good standing. They lived in Brad- 
ford on the Merrimack, and were the principal family of the 
place. My great-grandmother was named Ednah Hardy, and 
the name, Ednah, then unusual, has been kept in the family for 
four generations, and always spelled with the " h." * One anecdote 
is worth preserving. "When grandmother was young her parents 
went off for a visit, leaving the children to keep house. They 
took the opportunity to make for breakfast a " Johnny-cake " of 
Indian meal, of which tliey were very fond ; but they were very 
much mortified when a neighbor happened to look in and found 
them partaking of such miserable food as only the poorest 
people deigned to eat. Grandfather Dow moved to Exeter, 
N. H., where he carried on a large tannery. I remember that 
whenever we passed a tan-yard in our drives, mother would say, 
as she inhaled the familiar smell, " There lives an honest man." 



* I have always fought for this "h," and with good reason; for my Hebrew 
friends tell me the " h" is a sacred letter, and means "the favor of God." 



Jeremiah TDow. 

Photogravure by John Andrew and Son. — By 
Mrs. Hildreth, about 1844. 



BIRTH AND CHILDHOOD. 3 

After the fashion of children I pondered in secret, but never in- 
quired, of the connection between hemlock bark and honesty. 

My grandmother was an admirable woman. She was remark- 
able for her warm, unselfish affection, for lier excellent judgment, 
and her executive powers. She had, moreover, a broad, progres- 
sive mind, and a sweet touch of poetic feeling and perception of the 
feelings of others. I always felt that she understood me better 
than any other person. I had that most inconvenient fault of 
carelessness, for which I got so many rebukes that I was deeply 
convinced of my own worthlessness. I have always been 
very grateful to her, for I once overheard lier say, when some- 
body was praising a cousin for her virtues of neatness and 
order, " Well, I wouldn't give our Ned for her, after all." 

Grandmother never had firm health, suffering greatly from 
asthma. She died at sixty-nine years of age. A short time be- 
fore her death I one day brought home " Paul and Virginia," in 
French. She was greatly disappointed to find it was in French, 
as she said she had not read it since she was a child ; so I trans- 
lated it aloud to her and she enjoyed it very much. She never 
joined the popular church, and read Emerson and Parker with 
great enjoyment. 

My father came from Gloucester on old Cape Ann. His 
father died when he was but twelve years old, and he was 
obliged to go at once into Mr. Mansfield's store to earn his 
living. His brothers went to sea, and I believe all but one 
perished on the water. He used to say that he felt rather 
ashamed that he did not want to go to sea himself, but he had 
no fancy for it. 

When father was a young boy, the boys wished to celebrate 
Fourth of July, or Independence day, as it was then often called. 
To do this properly, good liquor was necessary, and they clubbed 
their small resources to buy a pint of rum ; but this was not 
enough to make them all tipsy, so they decided that one or two 
should drink it for the credit of the company. 



4 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

The Editor of the " Genealogy of the Littlehale Family," when 
wishin" nie to buy his book, told me that I was the most 
distinguished member of the family ! Such unimpeachable testi- 
mony closes all hope of claiming a remarkable origin. 

I never knew my Grandmother Littlehale, but suspect' that 
she was not particularly amiable. She was a belle and a beauty 
in her youth, and was married very early to a Captain Edgar. 
My grandfather fell in love with her when he saw her walking 
out a bride with her first husband, and said he meant to marry 
her when he was old enough. Captain Edgar lived only two 
years, leaving one son, and then the young lover married her. 
My father was a devoted son, and, being the youngest child, his 
mother indulged him excessively, which perhaps was the reason 
that he never conquered a quick, flashy temper, which was his 
greatest fault, as he himself realized. Otherwise he was a 
very kind-hearted man, of generous impulses and sensitive 
feelings. 

His opportunities for learning were small, but he improved 
them assiduously, spending every moment he could command 
in reading. His knowledge of history, especially American, was 
remarkable, for he had a clear mind, a retentive memory, and 
warm patriotism.* 

He was very liberal in his views both in politics and religion, 
and was a believer in Woman Suffrage at a very early date. I 
must mention one inconsistency, however, both because it gave 
us much pain and because it is a curious illustration of the 
times. The first anti-slavery word that I ever heard was from 
him. He said, " The English and Americans boast of being the 
freest nations in the world, but the English impress seamen, and 
the Americans keep slaves." He had a real love for the negroes 

* The story of one of the brothers who went down to St. John, N. B., and there 
married and founded the family still living there, and an offshoot of which is 
planted and flourishing in California, is partly told iu my story, "The Child of 
the Tide." 



BIRTH AND CHILDHOOD. 5 

from early associations, and felt deeply the wrong done them, 
and he could never refuse a negro who begged of him. But he 
had lived through the times when the establishment of the 
Union was the most earnest desire of the patriot ; and when the 
cry arose that " the union was in danger," and his idol Daniel 
Webster strove to save it by giving up everything to the South, 
he was distracted by anxiety, and could not bear that any one 
should attack slavery lest, he should pull down the pillars of the 
Constitution with it. Although fully in sympathy with Theo- 
dore Parker's theological views, he turned violently against him; 
which, as all the rest of the family were much attached to him 
was not agreeable to our feelings. Had he lived until the war 
broke up the fatal delusion that cost us so much, he would have 
found his humanity and his patriotism on the same side, an(i 
would undoubtedly have been a most enthusiastic defender of 
the Northern cause.. He died in 1850. 

My mother was a beautiful type of woman. She preserved to 
old age the sweet, shy modesty of a young girl, which suited well 
with the soft ringlets which hung around her face. She had 
good practical ability and great tenderne.ss of heart. She was 
anxious and apprehensive by nature, but when trouble came, as 
it often did, she bore it with a strength and patience that always 
surprised us. 

She had small opportunity of education in a country town, 
but she was very fond of reading. Indeed T can never remem- 
ber seeing either her or my father sitting down to rest without 
a book in their hands. She read Byron as a young girl when he 
was the idol of the hour, and shared in the excitement when a 
Waverley novel came fresh from the press. Her love for Scott 
lasted all her life ; she was never weary of re-reading him, and 
among my earliest recollections are the stories she told of Dandy 
Dinmont and Caleb Balderstone and other characters, who 
seemed quite as real to me as those of historic fame. This taste 
continued to the second and third generation. My solitary 



6 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

meals are often cheered by the help of " Ivanhoe " or " Old Mor- 
tality," as by the presence of an old friend who is always fresh, 
and whose good stories, though well remembered, we are still glad 
to laugh at once more. 

A family who lived near my grandfather, named Ellery, 
moved to Gloucester, Mass., and in due time my mother went to 
make them a visit, and enjoyed all the pleasures of a seashore 
life. My father had passed through his apprenticeship in 
Gloucester, and having attracted the notice of Mr. Tucker had 
been received into his large grocery establishment in Boston, 
and finally set up in business by him, so that he was at this 
time in a fair way of success. He formed a partnership with a 
man somewhat liis senior, named James Pickens. They con- 
tinued their connection so long that at one time they were the 
oldest firm in Boston with unchanged name ; and one of the 
very few that went through the disastrous panic of 1837 witli- 
out failing. 

At the period of my mother's visit to Gloucester, the excite- 
ment about the sea-serpent was at its height, and as my father 
was always of an inquiring turn, he went down to Cape Ann to 
investigate for himself. He did not find the serpent, but what 
many thought even more more beguiling, the beautiful young 
maiden from Exeter. They met on a boating excursion. A 
squall arose and the young lady, who was very timid and usu- 
ally very sick, was frightened out of the latter malady, and 
wrapt in " Mother Bedell's old black cloak," she doubtless 
received the kind attentions of her new admirer with silent 
gratitude. 

Exeter at that time was a very strictly Calvinistic place. All 
innocent amusements, as dancing, etc., were frowned upon. 
One lady said her grandmother called " a young man dissipated 
if he played backgammon ! " On Sunday it was considered 
wrong to visit or take a walk or read any but a professedly 
religious book, or in short do anything but go to church three 



BIRTH AND CHILDHOOD. 7 

times a day and keep awake if possible. At the same time the 
custom of social drinking prevailed everywhere, and the young 
men, with little innocent amusement at home, were easily led 
into license abroad. 

My parents were married June 10, 1819, and went to Boston, 
where they boarded for a short time. The next year, however, 
they took a house in what was called Belknap Street. This 
street has a curious little history, and as it may be swept away 
before tliis is read, I will give it. It runs from Beacon Street 
to Cambridge Street, and is divided by Mt. Vernon and Myrtle 
Streets into three parts, which at that time pretty well repre- 
sented three grades of society. I do not know whether the name 
Belknap was originally given to the whole length, for even then 
the upper part was often called Joy Place, but Belknap was the 
prescribed name. Here were some of the finest houses and most 
" swell " people in the city. In the middle part were families 
of good standing, and in this part was our house, where I was 
born. The lov/er part was almost entirely occupied by colored 
people, who streamed by our house, and gave us children that 
early familiarity with this people which, thank God, has pre- 
vented me from having any difficulty in recognizing the " negro 
as a man and a brother." 

But the upper ten did not relish the idea of giving their 
addresses on Belknap Street so associated with the despised 
race, and they petitioned the city government to change the 
name of their portion to Joy. Of course the middle class 
are but too prone to mimic the manners of the rich, and they 
next asked to have their portion re-named. It is a democratic 
country, and therefore the lower portion of the street wished 
for its Joy also, and so the good old name of Belknap, once 
belonging to a worthy divine, was given up, and has never been 
used again. 

I was the third child and the last born in this house. 
When I hear of women worn out with the cares of housekeeping 



8 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

I like to recall what my mother did. She had but one girl, but 
she was from Exeter and a treasure indeed, — Mary Parks ; I will 
give her what immortality I can. Mother took care of her chil- 
dren, did all their sewing (without a machine), and was always 
hospitable and generous in her housekeeping. Then water did 
not run into the wash-tubs, but often had to be brought by 
hand from outside of the house. No friction matches, still less 
an electric spark touched the gas and gave you light on the 
instant, but the ' obstinate flint and steel hammered out the 
spark which must be caught as it fell, and the lamps, filled with 
greasy oil, must be kept ready for burning. I do not think my 
mother ever made her own candles as her mother had done ; 
but she did make her own soap, and my father used to salt 
down a barrel of pork every year, and I remember when I held 
the lamp for him, and felt insulted that he offered me the tail 
for my reward. Mother always said in later y.ears that she 
felt poor without her pork-barrel. 

I was the third child, and curiously enough there is a little 
doubt about the day of my birth. The old Exeter nurse, Susy 
Beckett (I love these old names), who knew the birthday of 
everybody in the families where she nursed, and was in conse- 
quence a terror to maidens no longer in their teens, always 
gave it as the 27th of June ; and June it certainly was, but 
somehow in one record book made by my father, but at a much 
later date, it is registered on the 22d. I do not know how it 
happened, but I think it must have been a slip of memory or 
the pen. I remember the discussion about it when I was a child, 
and of course, being then ambitious to be old, I favored tlie 
earlier date. But my mother, who was not likely to forget such 
a circumstance, always said that I was born on Sunday, and we 
found that Sunday fell on the 27th in that year ; so that, having 
attained an age when a few more days of youth are not objec- 
tionable, I have always since considered the 27th as the date of 
my birth. I am sorry that I have not attained sufficient dis- 



BIRTH AND CHILDHOOD. 9 

tinction to make this a delightful puzzle for antiquarians. My 
mother died in 1876. 

The earliest thing I can recall is that my grandmother took 
my cold hands in hers and wrapped them in her warm apron. 
Erom circumstances I think this must have been when I was 
two years old. I do not remember our removal to Hayward 
Place when I was about that age. I may have been five or six 
years old when the use of anthracite coal was introduced. My 
father was interested in it, and when people declared that it was 
too difficult to light and manage, he answered that a child could 
do it, and accordingly taught me how to kindle a fire. I wished 
to turn my kno\^ledge to profit, and struck a bargain with the 
chamber-maid, whose duty it was to make the fire in mother's 
bedroom in the morning, that I would make the fire for her at 
the price of a cent a week. As this gave her a little more time 
to indulge in bed she gladly consented, but as she was rather a 
giddy girl, she was not very punctual in paying me my small 
pittance, for which I dunned her so unmercifully that she would 
cry out to the cook, " For God's sake, Ailie, do lend me a cent to 
pay this child." All the kindlings were laid ready for me, and 
I devoted myself earnestly to the task, somewhat difficult for a 
child of that age. My brother, of about two years, would crawl 
out of bed and as he had a little wagon he would load it with 
my wood and carry it off while I was busy with the grate. 
Father and mother would lie and laugh to hear my vigorous 
remonstrances. 

I went to a school in the court kept by Miss Mary Elizabeth 
Eebecca Eoyal Pemberton and her sister Joanna. No playful 
kindergarten was this school ! Miss Pemberton was a rigid 
Calvinist who believed in responsibility and duty to the tips 
of her finger-nails. Lessons were made to be learned, and the 
business of the child was to learn them by heart, though the 
heart had precious little to do with it. I do not remember 
any whipping in the school, but the common punisliment was 



10 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENP^Y, 

to blindfold the child and stand her in a corner. A perhaps 
hainier punishment was to be taken home by the teacher, 
and made to sit down in her room and learn the neglected 
lesson, wliile the voices of the other children at play could be 
heard. I did not love Miss Elizabeth, but her sister Miss 
Joanna was more congenial to the children. Her old father 
came in to teach us to read, and his favorite precept was, " Read 
slowly, and all other graces will follow." But spite of all, the 
training was excellent in reading, grammar, spelling, arithmetic, 
and geography. My next teacher, Mr. Fowle, said " he had no 
scholars so thoroughly trained as those from this school." His- 
tory was not so well taught. We had an American history in 
questions and answers which mostly consisted of " Where was 
such a battle fought and who beat ? " One of my classmates, 
Charlotte H., said one day, " When I don't remember who beat, I 
always say, ' The English,' for they beat the oftenest." " I don't," 
I replied, " I say, ' The Americans,' for I like them best." 

By 1830 we were a little group of live children, and we had 
pleasant times playing in the court. Thanksgiving day was 
the great festival, and after dinner father always played games 
with us. 

Our greatest pleasure was, however, going to my grand- 
mother's at Exeter, and spending a month in summer. The 
home was not a farm, but we had a large garden and flowers 
and drives and many country pleasures, and both grandfather and 
grandmother exercised their undoubted privilege of indulging us 
to their heart's content. I don't know why I should not have 
been a very happy child, but somehow I do not look back on 
childhood as a happy time, although I think these feelings may 
belong more to a later period. I was shy and full of strange 
thoughts, and I never felt as if anybody understood me. I was 
very homely, while my older and younger sister were very 
pretty, and grown-up people have an amiable way of impressing 
such aoreeable facts on the mind of a child. 



BIRTH AND CHILDHOOD. 11 

While we lived in Hayward Place I had quite an adventure. 
We were taught sewing at school. One day I lost or broke my 
needle and the teacher sent me home to get another. I found 
my mother very busy, and she chanced not to liave the right- 
sized needle to give me, so she gave me a cent and told me to 
go to a little store on Washington St., kept by one Hannah 
Farrar, and buy one. (Let me say in parenthesis that the 
common expression then was to buy a quarter of a hundred 
needles, that being the number in a paper, and I do not see 
how mother came to be destitute of them.) I never had much 
idea of locality, and for some reason mother told me to go out 
of the back door, which I was not accustomed to do, and so I 
turned the wrong way and walked on towards the " South End," 
looking vainly for the sign of " Hannah Farrar." I began to 
notice the changed aspect of things, for the "Neck" was then 
quite a rural place, and at last, convinced that I was on the 
wrong track, I turned around to go home, and overcome by 
fatigue and distress I sat down upon a door-step and began to 
cry. At this moment a young school-boy passed who recognized 
me and kindly asked what I was doing out there all alone. 
When I sobbingly told him I had lost my way, he said that if 
I would go with him a little way to his aunt's, where he must 
do an errand, be would then take me home. I followed him 
and was kindly received by the aunt, who (tell it not in these 
temperance days) treated me to cake and wine and sent me 
home quite cheered. In the meantime the teacher, alarmed by 
my not returning to school, sent another child to make inquiries, 
and alarmed my mother. My pretty sister came home from 
school and was despatched to the stores to ask if a little child 
had been seen. " No," said one gallant young clerk, " but if 
she is as pretty as you, she will soon be found." My little 
sister came home crying that " Neddy had gone off with her 
luncheon, and she had n't had a bit." The town crier was sent 
for, but was fortunately absent, so that I was saved from the 



12 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

ignominy of being cried about the town. When I arrived home 
with my escort my first words were " Mother, 1 've got the cent ! " 
" I don't care anything about the cent," said tlie half-distracted 
mother; so I kept the cent and thought I had made by the 
adventure. The young boy was thanked and praised, and all 
manner of rewards offered him which he would not accept, but 
in the confusion they forgot to ask his name. Many years after, 
a young neighbor introduced a gentleman to me at a dancing- 
party, and when the set closed, said to me, " Do you know that 
you have been dancing with the boy who brought you home the 
day you were lost ? " Alas for the romance ! He did not fall 
in love with me, I did not pine for him, and so my childish 
adventure was without consequence. 

In describing my walk over the " Neck " I said, " I got to 
where there were gardens on both sides of the houses." 

Behind Hay ward Place and parallel with it, was a narrow, 
filthy court, called Sweetzer's Court, inhabited by very poor 
people. Our well-water was very poor; we should now con- 
sider it poisonous. Later we had the Jamaica Plain aqueduct. 
Probably it was owing to the filth about us that we had the 
terrible scourge of scarlet-fever. All the five children and my 
father were stricken down with it. I remember the day I was 
taken. We had for dinner my favorite pudding. I could not eat 
a morsel. My poor mother looked at me and said, " You too ! " 
Sargent, the only boy, two years old, died first, after only four 
days' illness, and my mother took me to his side and said, "Do 
you love your little brother ? " I think she was kind to let 
me recognize death in this lovely guise. He has been strongly 
familiar to me all my life, and I have no outward terrors. It is 
only the parting that I dread. When my next sister, Sarah, a 
singularly beautiful child, died, my mother followed her to the 
grave alone, no other one of the family being well enough 
to go. 

Our physician, Dr. John D. Fisher, who was connected with 



BIRTH AND CHILDHOOD. 13 

Dr. Howe in founding the Blind Asylum, was a most kind, 
excellent friend, but his practice seems to me to have had the 
narrowness of the old school, almost at its worst. 

The sister older than myself, Elizabeth, was very ill, having 
dropsy on the brain, which resulted in epilepsy. This was a 
terrible trial. My mother said she had lost two children, and 
she prayed as never before for the life of this child ; and, to use 
the old theologic phrase, it seemed as if " her prayer were 
granted in anger," for the poor child, who had been a very bril- 
liant scholar, gradually lost her memory, and her life was sad, and 
it was a great trial to all the rest of us. It is very hard to have 
one child among others who is not amenable to the ordinary 
rules of discipline. We were not old or thoughtful enough to 
remember how many pleasures she was depriyed of, when she 
was allowed to do things forbidden to us ; for the doctor's orders 
were that she was not to be required to do any tasks, and we 
often had to remain with her when we wished to be elsewhere. 
I have always questioned whether her mental faculties might 
not have been preserved by more judicious mental discipline, 
but they did the best they knew. It was singular that while 
she was the only one of the children who appeared to inherit the 
flashy temper of my father, she became very docile, conscien- 
tious, and affectionate, and only on one or two occasions in 
her life did she manifest any violence of temper. She had a 
great fondness for arithmetic, and was also fond of making puz- 
zles and conundrums, and writing verses, which have no literary 
merit, but are often touching from their tone of feeling. Her 
religious feeling was very sweet and trustful. Although she 
often forgot the time of day, or the day of the week, yet on Sun- 
day morning she always appeared with her Bible in her hand 
instead of the knitting which was her usual employment. Only 
once, I think, did she ever mistake the day. I never realized in 
any other person so fully that the soul may live and grow with 
apparently very little intellectual life. She lived to be sixty 



14 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

years old, and died very suddenly in one of the usual fits of her 
malady. 

One other incident of this dread time is like a light in a dark 
cave. There were no trained nurses in those days, and it was 
the custom for neighbors and friends to assist in the care of the 
sick, " watching " by night. I think mother had the aid of an 
excellent nurse who was much in our family (Miss Coolidge), 
but still with five or six patients, some of them very ill, her 
hands were more than full. A young lady (Miss Ann Wil- 
liams) came to her, although an entire stranger, and begged and 
urged that she be allowed to watch two nights in the week, 
which she did. This good friend spent her life in such deeds 
of mercy as gave her the name of " Saint Ann." She lived 
long, and died in 1900. 

Two years later, when I was eight years old, came a great 
change. 1 do not know whether it was because father was 
impressed with the unhealthfulness of the location, or because 
mother never could feel happy in the house where she had 
suffered so much, but we moved to a new house in Bowdoin 
Street. It was one of a block of four houses, still standing, 
which father had built in connection with others. The name 
on the lowest house door was Coolidge, next came that of 
his partner Pickens, next our own, and finally, on the upper 
one. Stone. So the boys used to amuse themselves by calling 
out, " Coolidge Picking Littlehale Stones." It was quite a 
rural part of the town then. We could look from our back 
upper windows over " Gardner Green's garden " to the water. 
This land was soon made into Pemberton Square, and was first 
a very fashionable place of residence, then devoted to lawyers' 
offices, and now mainly to the Court-house. Above our house 
was open space to nearly the top of the hill, and the land 
was in litigation between Bowdoin College (I believe) and 
other heirs, and one party took forcible possession, and we had 
quite a fight there. 



BIRTH AND CHILDHOOD. 15 

Another change followed this, for I left the little school I 
have spoken of, and went with my oldest sister, Mary Frances, 
to the school of Mr. Win. B. Fowle, which was conducted on the 
Monitorial plan. It was at that time in a poor little temporary 
building, where our ink froze on our desks, but was soon after 
removed to very fine quarters on the corner of Temple Place and 
Washington Street, the door being on Temple Place, and the 
lower story on Washington Street occupied by shops, 

I shall not be able to brag of my later scholarship, so I will do 
what I can now. By dint of j^.Iiss Pemberton's drill and a de- 
lightful book called "The little Grammarian" (which I have 
tried in vain to obtain in late years), I had so thoroughly 
mastered Murray's grammar that Mr. Fowle exclaimed in 
astonishment, " Wliy, she parses as well as the girls in the first 
class !" Grammar was Mr. Fowle's hobby, and he had published 
a text-book of his own, on a system which he considered more 
rational than Murray's, and which he tried to teach in the 
school. But it was far too philosophical for such young minds, 
and as he always encouraged his pupils to express their opinions 
and argue with him, I used to stand up stoutly for the genuine 
Lindley Murray in which I had been trained. And I still think 
that the few simple empirical rules which lead to observation of 
the language, are far better adapted to the minds of children in 
our grammar schools, than the elaborate and tedious analysis of 
such writers as Greene, which is far from satisfactory, and be- 
wilders the mind instead of enlightening it. I think Murray's 
grammar was to the study of English language something like 
what Linnaeus' artificial system was to the science of botany. 
Mr. Fowle was not a college graduate and did not encourage the 
study of Latin, to my great regret, as, if I had studied it with 
him, I should have been thoroughly grounded in it, which I 
never was. But he had a genius for teaching and made every- 
thing clear to his pupils, and encouraged them to independent 
thinking. He introduced the study of Science and illustrated 



16 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

it by experiments — and how hard the poor man did work with 
his old electrical machine ! I believe that I delight in the 
triumphs of electricity now as one would in the success of one 
he had known as a little feeble baby ! He was before the 
times in many things. Drawing was taught in the school, and 
the celebrated Lowell Mason drilled us in singing. A dry stick 
he was, and would never have been supposed to be a lover of 
the divine arts. He certainly did not make it very attractive 
to us. A teacher no less celebrated in his line, Monsieur 
Papanti, gave us lessons in dancing. Eev. Edward E. Hale 
is fond of claiming that he was his first pupil in Boston. 
Whether it was owing to the excellence of his first pupil I will 
not pretend to say, but it is a very singular fact that this 
foreigner held sway in Boston for two and in some cases three 
generations, as the only dancing teacher who was recognized as 
" comme il faut," and whom no changes of fashion could affect ; 
and his mantle has even fallen unquestioned on his son. He 
was exceedingly particular in his drill, and those who continued 
for years under his teaching certainly acquired the art which 
fitted them to become "ornaments of society." I was not a 
shining star in his firmament. As we had a fine large hall and 
a piano, dancing -was frequently our entertainment at recess. I 
suspect that our school was the first to introduce gymnastics, 
certainly for girls. We had parallel bars and a few other 
exercises, in which I bore my part. 

The Monitorial system was then an important subject in 
educational circles, and its advocates hoped it would become a 
part of the public-school system. It was recommended by its 
cheapness and by the development of self-reliance and respon- 
sibility which it gave to the young teachers, which helped 
to fix their lessons firmly in their minds. But the elder 
pupils complained that too much of their time was occupied 
with simply reviewing what they had gone over, and parents 
fancied that their children did not get the influence they 



BIRTH AND CHILDHOOD. 17 

might from older minds. My oldest sister was a fine scholar, 
and she and Miss Lucy Gushing were at one time the old- 
est and best pupils, having their seats beside that of the head 
teacher, and having control over the whole school in his absence. 
Although Mr. Fowle was an excellent teacher, he was not a very 
popular man. He allowed his pupils a good deal of freedom 
in their relation to him, and yet he was a strict disciplinarian. 
His temper was not good, and he sometimes employed what we 
thought " cruel and unusual punishments," although there was 
nothing like whipping allowed. I remember one instance over 
which we held many an indignation meeting. On the top of the 
stove was an urn which tempted the girls to pour water into it 
instead of going downstairs to the sink. This of course rusted 
the iron and injured the stove. Mr. Fowle had scolded and 
threatened in vain, and at last detected a culprit in the act. 
He took her hand and plunged it into the foul water. I do not 
know whether it was hot, and perhaps he did not expect the 
result, but it made her hand very sore, and we always looked 
upon it as 'a piece of great cruelty. Other girls were seated on 
the front of his high desk with their feet dangling in the air. 
One I remember was a specially saucy rogue, who would never 
betray that she felt abashed or ashamed by her position. But 
the chief method of reward and punishment was an elaborate 
system of marks of merit which were redeemed in money at 
the close of each term. It was a very equitable system, and as 
those who chose could leave their money on deposit, it was a 
good lesson in thrift. My savings when I left school amounted 
to nearly ten dollars, which my father deposited in the old 
Provident Savings Bank, where it lay for many a long year, and 
I reaped the benefit of it many times, for, if I proposed to take 
it out at any time to procure some desired object, my father, 
who considered it hardly less than sacrilege to disturb a deposit 
in the savings bank unless on dire necessity, would generally 
give me the money for my object. 



18 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

French was well taught, with the assistance of a Frenchman 
for conversation. I have through life always felt the difference 
of my knowledge of French and that of any other language 
learned under a different method and teacher. I believe in 
drill. 

The teacliing in arithmetic was rational and thorough. Col- 
burn was authority. I had been so well drilled by Miss Pem- 
berton that I well remember my bashful blushes when I went 
to the head of the class above many big girls, and Mr. Fowle's 
saying, " It is not you but they who ought to blush." On rainy 
days he had special exercises to promote rapidity in calculation. 
I was often first in time, but I am sorry to say I often failed in 
accuracy. Geography was my horror, and to this day I would 
rather not have to know anything about the divisions of the 
earth's surface, but enjoy it as a whole. But thanks, I suppose, 
to those weary hours spent in Miss Pemberton's room after 
school (how I hated them), I was sufiEiciently posted to be 
monitor over girls considerably older than myself Map draw- 
ing was the only thing that ever gave me any real insight or 
pleasure in geography. 

Not so with science, especially astronomy, which was well 
taught by means of diagrams which we must copy in reduced 
size and explain. I had no faculty for anything mechanical, 
and Mr. Fowle once said, " I know your drawing will be the 
worst, and your explanation the best of the class." 

In one of his reports, Mr. Fowle says, " I will teach algebra 
when I can find nothing more interesting or useful for young 
females." As my father had the same prejudice, I have felt the 
want of algebra all my life. 

Mr. Fowle was very much interested in phrenology, and when 
the great Spurzheim visited the country, he came to the school 
and examined the pupils. He was much interested in my sister 
and wished he might have the privilege of educating her. 

My sister, who was tired of being the oldest scholar and chief 



BIRTH AND CHILDHOOD. 19 

monitor, left the school, and Mr. Fowle, who was of a jealous 
nature, could not forgive it ; I thought him not very friendly to 
me afterwards, and I fear I was rather saucy to him. 

I begged foolishly to go to another school. I had made some 

acquaintance with Miss C H y (afterwards Mrs. 

D ), from the circumstance that her old grandmother had 

taken half of my grandmother's house, and we made a visit 
there together. 

I found her at this time very agreeable. We had literary 
tastes and ambitions in common, and I was glad to go to the 
same school with her. This was the Mt. Vernon school, taught 
by Mr. Joseph Hale Abbot. He had been a professor in Exeter 
Academy, and my mother and aunts had a high idea of his 
learning. I am writing my own youthful impressions, and not 
a well-reasoned opinion of a mature woman ; undoubtedly he 
was much more of a man than I ever came to think him. I 
have no doubt that he had very much of the knowledc/e 
to be acquired from books, but he seemed to me ignorant of 
human nature, certainly of girl nature, and he did not generally 
command the affection of his pupils. I could fill pages with an 
account of the mischievous tricks that we loved to play upon 
him. He used many "bywords," which we would repeat in 
proper connection, but with an imitation of his tone and man- 
ner which would convulse the school with laughter, and yet 
we could not be chidden for imitating our teacher. I was alone 
in the study of Spanish, and had a very sentimental love-story 
to read. Instead of the usual sing-song manner of translation, 
I would read it with proper dramatic emphasis, to the great 
delight of the listening school. 

We were allowed to have a school paper called " The Casket," 
for which we wrote a great deal, while we grumbled over the 
weekly composition. The editor had the right of rejection of 
articles. The anti-slavery discussion was then raging, and some 
of us determined to write aiticles upon it. Our editor was a 



20 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

charming girl, Katy W (I love to give these dear old 

names), belonging to a conservative family, and she refused to 
read the pieces. We held an indignation meeting and threatened 
to appeal to Mr. Abbot, but in the midst of it word was brought 
that Katy was crying on the staircase ; our feelings overcame 
our passions, and we rushed out in a body to kiss and console 
her. 

At this time Amasa Walker made a brave address on Wom- 
an's Eights at the Lyceum. My sister and I worked out some 
very prosaic stanzas, which, I believe, were printed in the 
" Transcript." As school-girls, of course, we must have a finger 
in every pie, and the discussion became so warm in the school 
as to interrupt the lessons. Mr. Abbot therefore gave us leave 
to hold a meeting in the school-room in the afternoon. Caroline 

H , since so able an advocate of tlie cause, then opposed it, 

while I strongly advocated it. The day was set, but when the 
hour came for me to go, a little sick sister had fallen asleep in 
my arms, and I would not disturb her even to fulfil my engage- 
ment. Imagine the jeers to which I was exposed, — Caroline 
declaring that this settled the whole question, that a woman 
could not and should not vote ! 

I felt that this school was not good for me. I went over much 
ground in the languages, history, and even science, but super- 
ficially, and I did not get the kind of intellectual training in 
thoroughness and accuracy that I needed. The moral influence 
was not good, although Mr. Abbot was a conscientious, upright 
man, but I was in constant antagonism to constituted authori- 
ties, which was a lesson not particularly needed. At last I was 
conscious of it, and begged to leave school, but I do not think my 
parents understood the case and they did not grant my wish. 
Then Mr. Abbot finally called on mother and wished me to leave 
school, as my influence was so strong on the other scholars, and 
he thought not beneficial. I dare say he was right, for I cer- 
tainly did not strengthen his authority. One of our teachers 



Ednah 'T)ou\ 

Photogravure by John Andrew and Son — From a 
crayon portrait by Mrs. Hildreth, about 1843. 



BIRTH AND CHILDHOOD. 21 

was Dorcas Smith, afterwards Mrs. Murdoch, our drawino- 
teacher. She was a woman of fine intelligence and high 
character, and all the girls loved her. Her methods of teachincr 
drawing were very different from those now employed, but 
tliey were genuine and not tricky at all. I went so far as to 
paint miniatures in water colors on ivory, but they were quite 
worthless. After I left school I went for some years to her for 
private lessons. I think the only one of my schoolmates who 

has become very interesting to the public is Mrs. D . I had 

much regard for her. She had a sincere love of goodness and 
has worked earnestly for humanity, and I believe that the 
world is the better for her having lived in it. I once expressed 
to Mrs. Murdoch my regret that I had not gone to Mr. Emer- 
son's school instead of Mr. Abbot's. "You would probably 
have been a better scholar," she replied, " but I think you would 
not have developed so well what you value, independence of 
thought." So much for school days; now for education. 



22 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 



CHAPTER II. 

GIRLHOOD. 

Dream no more, thy young life is fleeting, 
Linger no longer sweet visions repeating ; 
High rides the sun of life, high aims pursuing, 
Leave now thy couch of rest, up and be doing. 

TN 1840 my father and mother took my older sister and myself 
on a journey. Eailroads were still quite a novelty. We 
went to Springfield by rail, and then we went down the Con- 
necticut to Hartford in a little steamboat, which appeared to 
draw about two inches of water and slid easily over the 
underlying rocks that rippled the shallow stream. I then saw 
more of the historic relics of Hartford than I ever have since. 
"We went to the State House and saw the old Charter, and 
visited the Charter Oak, which I afterwards walked round with 
Theodore Parker, who took his hat off in reverence. It was 
blown down a few years later, and I have a piece of the wood. 
Thence we went to New Haven and to New York by boat and 
stayed at the Astor House, which was then a wonder of hotel 
splendor. We proceeded to Trenton Falls, which I enjoyed to 
the uttermost, although I almost frightened my mother out of 
her senses by going up by the side of the river to the very 
farthest possible point. We were obliged to go by stage to 
Eochester on the old Lake or Shore Road, as it was called, and 
I was much disappointed to find that it by no means followed 
the shore of the lake, but was inland, hot and dusty. It was 
the year of the election, when the country was roused for the 
defeat of Van Buren and the Democratic party, whose financial 



Sari>riit S. Littlchalc. 

Photogravure by John Andrew and Son. — Photographed 
from a portrait by Page, 1840. 



Q 



GIRLHOOD. 23 

measures had proved so disastrous to the husiness of the country, 
and the people flocked to log cabins to drink hard cider and 
sing songs for "Tippecanoe and Tyler too!" Their prayers 
were heard with a vengeance, for they got a great deal more 
of "Tyler too" than they found comfortable. We found the 
log cabins in the daytime often a welcome refuge from the 
heat. A week in Niagara satisfied my longings, and we went 
to Buffalo for a day, where we saw General Scott review some 
troops. He was then in the prime of life and a magnificent 
man, looking every inch a soldier. We crossed the lake, which 
brought the first experience of sea-sickness, and then the beauty 
of the Thousand Isles, where the fishermen spearing salmon by 
torch-light recalled Scott's wonderful description in " Guy Man- 
nering," with which I was already familiar. The steamboats 
did not then shoot the Lachine rapids, and we were obliged to 
take the stage and pass around them in the night — a weary 
journey ! I remember how my heavy head would droop upon 
my mother's shoulder. Of Montreal, I remember little but the 
French service in the Cathedral and a visit to the convent of 
the gray nuns ; but Quebec was very impressive from being the 
first walled city I had ever seen, and which, of course, recalled 
many of the scenes I liad read of, more in romance, I suspect, 
than in sober history. My father, who was a most patriotic 
lover of American history, asked a native to tell him the spot 
where Montgomery fell, and was much amused to be answered : 
" Montgomery — oh, yes, the shoemaker ! He lives in the next 
street." We came down Lake Champlain and crossed Vermont 
by stage on the once famous Gulf Road, which was so smooth 
that, having here met the Boston papers, I read them aloud to 
the company eager for the news. The most interesting item to 
me was the announcement of the projected fair for the com- 
pletion of Bunker Hill Monument. 

I was too young to take an active part in it, but my friend 
Cornelia Walter, who was some years older, was active in it. I 



24 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

may as well speak here of these two friends, Mr. Lynde Walter, 
the founder of the " Boston Transcript," and his sister, who 
for some years took the editorial charge of it, then a jsosition 
almost unheard of among women. Mr. Walter was a man of 
high culture and gentlemanly traits. His mother was of English 
descent, and of the old Tory school, and a fine specimen of a 
true, good-hearted, but aristocratic and highly prejudiced, woman. 
The father was very gentle and genial. Mr. Lynde Walter was 
very kind to us girls, and I believe that the last time he ever 
went out was to escort his sister and myself to see the Fourth 
of July fireworks. He was suffering very much, and his mother 
begged him to stay at home ; but he would not " disappoint the 
girls." I remember how amusing and bright he was all the 
evening. He was taken very ill immediately, and at one time 
his death was confidently reported ; and as the news went over 
the Union, and could not then be corrected by telegraph, he had 
the pleasure of reading his own obituary notices. He lived four 
years, confined almost entirely to his bed. It was as his assis- 
tant that Cornelia began her editorial work which proved so 
successful. She was a very warm-hearted, impulsive woman, 
but had also great good sense and executive ability, and seldom 
made a blunder. She took the stand of frank and impartial 
criticism of the lectures and other amusements of the day, and 
it made her notices much more regarded than the mere puffs of 
other papers. At one time Henry Norman Hudson was strug- 
gling to get a hearing for his lectures on Shakespeare. His 
audiences were pitifully small. She took me to hear him and 
asked me to write the notice. I used few words of praise, but 
told what he said, quoting some brilliant passages. The next 
night the audience was much increased. I continued in this 
way, and when the short course of six lectures closed, the 
audience was large, and unanimously invited Mr. Hudson to 
give another course. My copy of Charles Lamb is a gift of 
gratitude from Mr. Hudson. A queer man he was, full of wit 



GIRLHOOD. 25 

and keen penetration in literary matters, but not wholly agree- 
able, for he was opinionated and self-conceited and full of re- 
actionary prejudices. As I was in the full glow of anti-slavery 
and radical feeling, of course we often differed greatly. He 
became an Episcopal minister of the highest church, I think, 
and I once heard him preach. It was very funny to hear him 
take the Scripture characters, Martha and Mary, and analyze 
them just as he did Shakespeare's heroines. It was keen and 
very entertaining, but did not impress me as devotional. 

One anecdote of old Mrs. Walter is characteristic of the spirit 
of the times. Mr. Parker's South Boston sermon had just been 
preached and was severely condemned by all conservatives. 
Miss Walter was reading it to her sick brother, when her mother 
came into the room and listened for a while. " Whose sermon 
is that ? " she asked. " It is by a Mr. Parker," answered her 
daughter. The name, then unfamiliar, did not strike her atten- 
tion, and she asked, " To what sect does he belong ? " Not wish- 
ing to shock her, lier daughter replied, " I think they call him 
a Spiritualist." "I should think so," said the good old lady, 
"for it is the most spiritual thing I ever heard." When she 
heard what sermon it was, she was very indignant at havinfr 
been led to praise it, and when I asked her daughter to go with 
me to hear Mr. Alcott she said : " No, — she shall have nothing 
to do with it ; it is the most insidious doctrine in the world." 

But I must go back to 1840. How we shouted and sang for 
the great Whig convention, and thought the country was safe 
and all riglit when Harrison was elected ! And how soon was 
our joy changed into mourning by his death. I remember 
wearing mourning for him. At that time we had a little 
manuscript journal called " The Mount Vernon Eeview," which 
we passed from hand to hand. I drew a portrait of Harrison, 
surrounded by mourning lines. We had great fun with this 
magazine, for Mr. or ^liss Walter would occasionally soberly 
notice it in the "Transcript" and criticise the articles, and 



26 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

numerous would be the inquiries after tliis will-o'-tlie-wisp that 
could uever be found. I do not know that any of its writers 
have ever been placed on the scrolls of Fame; but I give it its 
brief notice. I was rather elated when Mr. Walter took a little 
poem of mine, " The Morning Star," for the " Transcript." 

About this time I first remember a singular and interesting 
friend of my mother's who exercised some influence over my 
development. This was Mary Ann Haliburton. She was the 
daughter of a bank officer in Portsmouth, New Hampshire ; one of 
those men of much intellect and wit and large amateur literary 
acquirement who have the reputation that they might have been 
great, only unfortunately they are not. Whether he remained 
only a bank cashier all his life from indolence, or want of 
ambition, or from what cause, I know not ; his daughter used 
to compare him with Goethe and other great men. She had 
a quick, lively mind, fine conversational power, and an earnest 
interest in humanity. She was, however, sensitive and very 
desirous of admiration and affection ; but her fine powers were 
not trained and disciplined either by home or school. She had 
an intense love of beauty, and while she had a fine figure and 
graceful carriage, to plain features and a very prominent nose 
was added the crowning mortification of a squint eye. She 
would joke about her infirmities, keenly as she felt them, and 
used to say that when walking in the street she would hear 
young inen say, "There's a fine figure — let's see her face." 
" But I always took care," she said, " to keep my face well 
hidden." It was a current saying that "she was an angel to 
follow, but a devil to face," which was as true in regard to her 
temper, also, as epigrams are apt to be. Her grandmother lived 
next door to my grandfather, and when she visited her she saw 
my mother, a little younger than herself. Tradition runs that 
as Mary Ann looked through the separating fence she said : 
" Are you Ednah Dow ? I know you by your curly liair ; " and 
that my mother replied : " Are you Mary Ann Haliburton ? I 



GIRLHOOD. 27 

know you by your squint eye." In spite of this impolite 
answer, the children became friends, and mother enjoyed her 
visits to Portsmouth, and in later years had great intellectual 
pleasure from this bright companion, who had leisure for the 
study and literary society, for which our large family gave 
but little time. 

One point in her history is instructive. Her mother died 
early, and while a young girl in society Mary Ann had a 
delightful life with her intellectual and indulgent father. But 
it was said that she did not so fully provide for physical 
comforts as middle-aged men are wont to require, and at any 
rate he married a woman much his inferior in culture, and 
whom he had often ridiculed. I never knew this person 
except from Mary Ann's report, but I have heard that she was 
a good average woman. Yet it was quite natural that Mary 
Ann should not take kindly to the relation. At last she came 
to the resolution to leave home and support herself by teaching 
drawing, for which she had some talent. But she had a brother 
then in business in New York, who was scandalized at the idea 
that his sister should work for her support. He offered, if she 
would give up this idea, to pay her yearly four hundred 
dollars, that she might live where she pleased. She had 
enough of the same kind of aristocratic feeling to accept the 
offer; and so, instead of leading an independent life, which 
would have called out her energies, disciplined her character, 
and brought her into affectionate relations with young people, she 
spent her life in cheap boarding-houses, trying one scheme after 
another to make something .like a home, for which the natural 
conditions did not exist. When this brother died he left her 
only an annuity of seven hundred a year, giving the bulk of 
his large fortune to a step-brother, who (it was supposed) he 
thought would keep up his name in business. This property 
was invested in stocks, and during the inflated period of the 
war time, the dividends were large, and yet she received only 



28 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

the stated sum — paid in currency, which had sometimes not 
the purchasing power of one half the amount in gold. I always 
thought it a great wrong, which could have been avoided by 
payment in gold. 

She had many quaint sayings which became proverbs among 
her circle. One was that she wished she had been born a 
widow with one child ; for she thought it was the most " in- 
dependent position for a woman." 

I am greatly indebted to her, not only for a great deal of 
intellectual stimulus and many pleasant acquaintances and 
social enjoyments, but especially that she introduced me to 
two of the most precious friends of my life, of whom I shall 
speak later, — Margaret Fuller and Mary Shannon. 

I have not kept a very strict chronological order as things 
rise in my mind ; but I wish to speak now of a subject covering 
several years of this forming period. I was not brought up 
under severe religious influences, but still I heard something 
of the prevailing Orthodox theology, and as I was an omnivorous 
reader, when I was with my Aunt Hannah at Exeter I read her 
books on Sunday, because I could not get any others. When I 
was eight years old my little baby sister was very ill, so that the 
old family nurse was summoned. At evening I recognized her 
danger and feared that she would die ; but I went to bed early 
at mother's wish. I had read much of the efficacy of prayer, 
and I poured out my heart fervently to God for the life of the 
dear baby, and went to sleep confident that my prayers would 
be answered and the child would live. I woke in the morning 
and found the old nurse lying beside me. I knew what it 
meant, — for she would not have left her charge if alive, — and 
a terrible shock of sorrow and loss of faith came over me. I 
remember our minister spoke of my grief as something extraor- 
dinary in so young a child. I have wondered if this mental 
shock did not have something to add to it. 

My father was a Gloucester Universalist, and they were not 



GIRLHOOD. 29 

very strict in religious regulations ; still, we had a respectful 
observance of Sunday. I remember that we would not say on 
Sunday, " Let 's play keep house," but, " Let 's make believe keep 
house ! " " Make believe," did not seem inappropriate to Sun- 
day, but play was sinful. I can remember reproachfully check- 
ing myself if I chanced to hum a secular tune. Father used to read 
the Bible to us on Sunday afternoons, and he often related that 
when he read the passage about God's commanding the Israel- 
ites to borrow jewels of their Egyptian neighbors before going 
into the wilderness never to return, I looked up into his face, 
and said, " Father, was that right ? " It was a solemn decision 
to make, on the instant, between the authority of the Bible and 
a child's own sense of right. He did not hesitate, but said, 
" No, my child, it was not." This was a beginning of education 
and of confirmed trust in my father that was worth a great deal. 
I do not know why, when Dr. Holley, who had been my father's 
favorite pastor, left, he did not continue to his successor, John 
Pierpont ; but my first remembrance of meeting was at the 
church on Church Green, and Mr. Young was the pastor. He 
was not attractive to children, and my first remembrance of 
going to meeting twice a day is of unmitigated dulness and 
ennui, which above all things I hated. The walk thither through 
pleasant, shady Summer Street, and Winter Street, then the 
abode of doctors, whose signs we regularly counted, was pleas- 
ant enough ; but the cold of winter pinched, after sitting still 
so long. I pricked my finger and wrote in letters of blood in 
the hymn-book, or I chewed my gloves, or did anything, to 
while away the time, rejoiced indeed when a hymn-book fell 
from the gallery, or there was any disturbance of the wearisome 
monotony of the sermon. By and by a Sunday School was 
established, with a library, and my wise mother used to allow 
me to read my book during the sermon, to the great relief of 
all my neighbors. My teacher was ]\Iiss Bradley. She read 
the Bible to us in order, for which I am indebted to her. I 



30 EEMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY, 

always enjoyed the reading of the Bible and the hymns in 
church. I must record the gratitude of the children to dear 
old Dr. Lowell, whose sermons were always short — seldom 
more than twenty minutes. 

But when I was some fourteen or fifteen years old, I began 
to enjoy meeting very much. I had no enthusiasm for Mr. 
Young ; but he was a fine historical scholar, and his sermons 
were often interesting. He excelled in funeral discourses and 
was fortunate in having several distinguished men in his con- 
gregation, so that he was said to be "good to blow the last 
trump." His discourse on Dr. Bowditch was over two hours 
long, and yet held the attention of tlie audience completely. 
He had a difficulty in pronouncing the letter K, and of him was 
told the famous speech which I doubt not is made to do service 
for many a successor in that impediment. Meeting the Presi- 
dent of Harvard College, he said, " I hear you had quite a wow 
the other day." To the President's astonished look he explained, 
" A wow, a wiot, a wumpus, a ivelellion ! " I myself heard him 
say, " Chawity we have, it is tivue, but not the chawity which is 
victoioious over pwide." He was very conservative, and much 
disturbed at the vagaries of Transcendentalism. He once said 
in a sermon, " Pwove all things, hold fast to that which is twue, 
but for God's sake, hold fast to something." 

When I was about twelve and , thirteen years old, I spent 
much time in the summer with my aunt at South Berwick, 
Maine. I had much time for reading there, and uncle had a 
good collection of books. Here I read all Miss Edge worth's 
novels, — good reading for a young mind. I found a congenial 
companion, and we used to sit up in a willow tree, and read 
Hamlet ; or in some leafy bower act plays of our own devising. 
My uncle was a Unitarian and used to go to Dover to meeting. 
I loved to accompany him, and here first knew Rev. John 
Parkman, who became much later a valued friend. I may 
here mention a dearly loved friend, Mary Lowe, of Dover. I 



GIRLHOOD. 31 

spent much time with her, both in Dover and in Exeter, where 
she passed much of her time with her uncle, Judge Smith. 
The Judge was my first distinguished acquaintance, and my 
father told me so once, and that he wanted me to remember 
that great men of whom I read (biography was always my 
delight) were just as easy and unpretending and delightful as 
he. He was very kind to me, and commended me for using a 
dictionary. His second wife, whom he married late in life, was 
at once a highly accomplished, and most truly religious and 
benevolent woman. The house was the perfection of a pleasant 
home, and young people were ever welcome. Mrs. Smith had 
a happy way of bringing to her young visitor some charming 
book which she recommended, thus leaving her free to read, 
when so inclined or the hostess was busy. Their only son, 
worthy even of such parents, is again Judge Smith, Dean of the 
Cambridge Law School. Mary Lowe was very unlike me, for 
she was gentle, shy, and unambitious, although very beautiful, 
and having many admirers ; but we loved each other with 
perfect trust. When she died, only this year (1894), I could 
truly say that our friendship had known no break for over fifty 
years. I have never known a purer, sweeter, truer woman. 
She married Dr. Swett, of Boston. 

In 1838 the head of Exeter Academy, Dr. Abbot, resigned, 
and there was a grand festival in his honor. This was the 
occasion of my meeting Daniel Webster in private for the only 
time. He had not then lost his place in my reverence, and as 
my father was most devoted to him, of course he was the idol 
of my admiration. As he was a trustee of the Academy, Judge 
Smith, who was its President invited him to dinner, and Mrs. 
Smith, knowing my admiration, kindly invited me to come and 
see the lions. The Judge lived in handsome but simple style, 
and no trained waiters could then be hired, so it was arranged 
that Mary Lowe and a granddaughter of Judge Smith should 
wait, upon the table. I have never forgiven myself for my 



32 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

stupidity that I did not think to ask permission to help them ; 
it would have been much better fun than sitthig silent at table 
among tlie grandees, especially as Mr. Webster said, " We are 
waited on by angels." I had a bow and an introduction, and 
then waited eagerly for the words of wit and wisdom to flow 
from the oracle ; but, whether because our hostess was a tem- 
perance woman I know not, our oracle was rather dumb, and I 
only heard some remarks upon cheese, which were not interest- 
ing to me. At the meeting the next day the Lion was himself 
again, and very eloquent, I never was fortunate enougli to 
hear one of his great speeches. I heard him only in Lyceum 
lectures, which did not give full scope for his powers, although 
his address was always impressive, and his lecture full of valu- 
able information. I remember one occasion when he spoke on 
the " Constitution." The lecture contained many important 
historical statements and much logical reasoning ; but it was 
entirely unrelieved by any ornamental illustration, still less wit 
or humor, and quite unsuited to the general capacity of the 
somewhat youthful, not to say frivolous, audiences that usually 
gathered at the Lyceum. The audience listened with respect 
— for Daniel Webster spoke — but they were evidently rather 
bored. He was succeeded by James T. Fields, then a young 
poet full of lively aspiration, and tolerably well satisfied with 
his own work, M'ho jauntily delivered a bright poem full of 
pleasant jokes and local allusions, which woke up the audience, 
and sent them away feeling that they had had a delightful 
evening with the great men. One of his lines in his compli- 
ments to the orator was : 

" Who follows Webster takes the field too late." 

I mourned deeply over Webster's subserviency to the slavery 
oligarchy, and it was most painful to see his baleful influence 
on the conscience of the North. When he made his famous 
7th of March speech, E. P. W said in my presence .that 



GIRLHOOD. 33 

he would rather Webster had put a pistol to his brains than 
to have him utter such words ; yet in a few days he was 
apologizing for it, and defending him. I heard Theodore 
Parker's wonderful sermon on Webster, in which he remembered 
all the nobility of his early utterances and all the kindly traits, 
his love of nature and his interest in all classes of men, but also 
brought out in strong characters the change in his later words, 
and the moral deterioration which had grown so rapidly from 
the first yieldings to temptation. As he was speaking, the snow 
which lay in a great mass on the old Melodeon suddenly slid 
from the roof with a noise like thunder. The audience, already 
roused to excitement, were thrilled by the sound, but in a 
moment Mr. Parker said, " Would that the infamy might so slide 
off from his character." Mr. W was asked to write a bio- 
graphical notice of Mr. Webster for a liberal review in England 
(I think the " Westminster "). He wrote with his usual ability, 
but omitted all mention of Mr. Webster's connection with pro- 
slavery measures. The English editor, feeling this to be an 
important omission, inserted a long extract from Parker's ser- 
mon covering this point. It was said that Mr. W 's cheer- 
ful visage was not seen as freely about town as usual that 
week. 

I may as well speak here of my early Exeter life, for it was 
characteristic of an Academy town. We always made a visit 
there in summer, and as a child it was paradise to me. I was 
very fond of my grandparents and my aunts, and I found play- 
mates and friends. Once we stayed all summer and I went to 
a little school ; and I remember with gratitude that our teacher 
used to bring in a large pitcher of molasses and water and 
ginger to refresh us in the forenoon recess. This was then a 
very common drink, and it is a very good substitute for stronger 
stimulants. My grandfather, like most of the moderately well- 
to-do people, took Academy boarders, and as we grew older we 
thus came to form acquaintance with the other sex on very 



34 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

pleasant familiar terms. On the annual exhibition day the 
ladies trimmed the Academy liall with evergreen, and even the 
children were allowed to assist in tying up Lunches of ground 
pine. But at last I arrived at the honorable age, about twelve, 
I think, when I was regularly invited by the committee of 
students to aid in the work and attend the exercises, and as he 
boarded at grandfather's, the salutatory orator, Edward Reed, was 
appointed my escort. I think that I never felt prouder of any 
honor than I did of walking up the aisle leaning on his arm. I 
had already read romance and poetry, and he made an excellent 
hero for my youthful imagination, and I sat by the window next 
day and watched his departing figure, deliciously miserable, in 
approved style. Mother used to say we girls " came out " at 
Exeter, and went in again when we returned to Boston. I 
should have said that I was not very much given to flirtation 
in my youth ; but a bundle of my old letters lately returned to 
me and covering a period of from thirteen years old to mature 
life seem to bear testimony against me that I was a very silly 
girl. I had no serious love affairs, however, and was never 
much tempted to them, for 1 never was a favorite with young 
men in general, nor a belle at dancing-parties, which I honestly 
think was the great reason that I hated them, for I loved the 
exercise well enough. I had, however, come to care very much 
for other things, of which I shall presently speak. 

It must have been in 1840 that I went to a ball given in honor 
of the Prince de Joinville, the son of Louis Philippe. I was 
very unwilling to go, but mother insisted upon it. Among 
other reasons against it Avas the fact that I had an allowance of 
«one hundred dollars for my clothes, and I very much grudged 
the money for a white silk dress. It was a brilliant ball ; but 
I had a stupid time, for I had no partner except one poor youth 
who knew nobody else, and was introduced to me by some 
business friend of father's. We ahVays felt the want of a 
brother on such occasions, as father was not a society man, and 



GIRLHOOD. 3o 

we had no one to escort us ; but my sister was pretty and 
attractive enough to have plenty of attention on her own ac- 
count. My only very pleasant recollection is of Anna Shaw 
(since Mrs. William B. Greene), who was then in the perfection 
of her youthful beauty. With her flowing, light curls and her 
soft, white, muslin gown like an angel's drapery, she was a per- 
fect vision of beauty which always remains with me. 

While on this subject of youthful gayeties I want to pay a 
brief tribute of respect to Dr. Dix, the oculist, for his kindness 
to forlorn young women at parties. Like the poet Shelley, he 
would not confine his attentions to those who were pretty and 
popular, but would take pains to see that no one was wholly 
neglected. 

Another sorrow had come into the household from the death 
of a dear little sister about two years old. Oh ! how little did 
I then appreciate the sweet patience of my mother, who bore 
these repeated losses without complaint, never wrapping the 
home in a cloud of gloom, but encouraging us in our pleasures 
when her own heart must have been aching so heavily. We 
always said that mother had something of the Indian in her 
nature, — none of his cruelty, certainly, but much of his patient 
endurance of suffering, and also his long memory of injuries, 
which she did not retaliate, but could not forget. 

The first and most severe depression of business I knew 
occurred about 1837. It was attributed to the measures of 
the Democratic party. Parties were extremely bitter, and 
personal abuse was constantly heard. Even in my childish 
remembrance I was thoroughly imbued with the prejudice 
against the Democratic party of that day. I think it was 
the most violent and disastrous of all the evil financial times 
I have ever known. 

My father never brought his business troubles into the family 
circle, but his last support gave way when he heard that the 
Boston banks were suspended. Money was utterly demoralized, 



36 EEMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

wild-cat notes were passed through all hands, and the paper of 
the most worthless banks was received readily among the people. 
My father's position alone stood firm in his line of business 
every other house failed. He had prudently drawn in sail 
before the storm came on, but it was even worse than he 
appiehended. 

I remember one instance of the bitter feeling which even 
affected the children. Eobert Eantoul was very unpopular, as a 
Democrat and also as a reformer, especially active in the tem- 
perance cause. The alliteration in his name always struck my 
ear unfavorably, and I thought of him as the worst man in the 
State. When I accidentally overheard a cousin of father's in- 
tending to call upon Mrs. Eantoul T wondered how she could 
visit such a wicked person. In after years, when I mingled in 
reform circles, I learned to estimate Eobert Eantoul as one of the 
truest and noblest patriots of the State. 

There is a curious change in amount and character of school 
vacations since my young days which deserve attention. Four 
weeks in August were considered ample enough to refresh our 
brains for the year's study, and our holidays were restricted to 
very few. Two sessions a day were the usual custom, but Wed- 
nesday and Saturday afternoons were granted free. Thanks- 
giving Day was allowed for the following Friday and Saturday, 
to digest the festival, and besides these were the annual Fast 
Day, now only of the past, the Fourth of July, which was more 
commonly called Independence Day, and 'lection days, of which 
more hereafter. 

The following letter is so vivid a picture of old Boston in 
my youth that I have asked permission to reproduce it in my 
" Eemiuiscences." I only add that at that time there was a 
general kindly feeling towards the negroes, mixed with some 
contempt, but no harshness. Through many experiences they 
have conquered the respect of our citizens. I remember that 
Garrison, non-resistant as he was, petitioned for the right of 



GIRLHOOD. 37 

colored men to bear arms, and Charles Sumner was very active 
in securing the co-education of both people, which has been a 
triumphant success. 

Letter from Frederick W. G. May. 

69 Adams St., Dorchestek, Mass. 
May 7th, 1902. 
Mrs. Ednah D. Cheney, 

Forest Hills St., Jamaica Plain. 

Dear Lady: In the days to which you refer, the State Election was 
held on the last Wednesday in May, at which time, I think, was the 
general muster of the militia, especially the new levies ; for every male 
from 18 years up, if able-bodied, was liable to do more or less mili- 
tary duty ; and to make this as acceptable as possible to the public, 
numerous independent military companies were formed, such as the 
New England Guards, the Boston Light Infantry, the Kifle Rangers, 
the Pulaski Guards, the Foit-Hill Artillery, and others, and the " Sea 
Fencibles," a redoubtable body of sea-faring men and ship-captains. 
Holidays were very few in tliose days ; and those Election days were 
the most notable ones, saving, perhaps, the national holiday, — the 
Fourth of July. I should say that Election day was not a legal 
holiday. I am quite sure that Independence was, — but would you 
believe it, m}' father's store was open for an hour or two in tlie early 
morning of Independence Day, on the considerate suggestion that the 
drivers of the huge country wagons which might have arrived at the 
" Port," or Charlestown Square, over night, might slip over to town 
and deliver their orders and lay their plans for the return freight, 
etc. ! There were no railroads in those days. And by common 
consent the afternoon of Ancient and Honorable Election day was 
given as a half holiday to the clerks and employes ! 

Indeed, it was everybody's day ; and emphatically the colored 
people's. They appeared in great force from what was known as 
"Nigger Hill," of which you carmot fail to know even more than 
I do. 

The wooden fence of the Common from Park Street corner to and 
beyond West Street was lined with booths and stalls where eatables 
and drinkables were exposed for sale by white and colored salesmen 
and saleswomen. Even oysters by the saucerful at fo'pence-lia'penny 
(4^ d., six and a quarter cents) found eager buyers ; lobsters too, and 



38 KEMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

candy by the tou, it seemed to my young eyes, cakes in variety, 
doughnuts, ginger-nuts, lemonade, spruce beer, ginger beer, etc. 

One specially delightful feature was the ambulatory stall. It was 
an ordinary hand-cart, — or I should say they were, for there were many 
of them, — the common hand-cart then being almost the only medium 
of conveyance of heavy or coarse merchandise between the strong, 
rough wheelbarrow and the " Boston long-tailed truck ; ** the express 
wagon being a comparatively modern institution ! 

This i-efreshraent cart was furbished up and fitted with a tilt or hood 
to shield its delicacies from sun, dust, etc. ; inside were boxes and 
shelves with the innumerable cakes that the well-bred baker then 
could furnish, buns with actual currants on them, molasses ginger- 
bread^ sugar gingerbread, jumbles, waffles, and I know not what else, 
— seed cakes, I can see and smell them now, President Biscuit, etc. 
But these carts could literally cover the field as the tide of minuc war 
ebbed and flowed. The shows innumerable, the camera obscura, de- 
lightful exhibitions — I wonder whither they have all gone! These 
laudable chariots carried baked beans and similar necessities of Boston- 
Beverly life, — brown bread hot, etc., — their proprietors and motive 
power being genial old darky ladies with genuine wool, etc., and gay- 
colored head handkerchiefs in the latest Southern style. This was 
Nigger 'lection, — the colored people very much in evidence. 

But on the first Monday of May came Artillery Election, when the 
Ancient and Honorable Artillery had their annual dinner and marched 
to the Common, there to elect officers fortlic ensuing year in presence 
of the Governor, who " took his seat (a chair) on the Common" and 
presided over a " drum-head election." It was on this august occasion 
that it was considered the proper thing for the white boys to run the 
colored ones oft" the Common. 

The State Election now occurs in November, and the Legislature 
meets on the first Wednesday of January. 

This is now a thing of the past, but the Ancient and Honorables 
still keep up their anniversary. 

My memory of Nigger 'lection, you see, is that of a very young 
boy and wholly dissociated from any election as such. It was simply 
'"Lection Day," about as near to a country muster as a city, of even 
so moderate a size as Boston then was, could compass, but the dear 
old " Common" made a great deal possible that could n't beeff'ected in 
most other such places. 



GIRLHOOD. 39 

As I was born in 1821, 1 was bom in the" Town of Boston," as was 
the " Provident Institution for Savings in the Town of Boston " in 
1816, and Samuel May, my father, was one of the original corporators. 
In one sense I could say " pars fui " but minima pars, so 1 am con- 
scious that my memory, Jong unransacked for that callow period, has 
probably got much tinged by later experiences. Thus traditions are 
arranged and arrayed, I suppose. Forgive my diffusiveness ! 
Cordially your obed't servant, 

(Signed) Fred. W. G. May. 

It is worth remembering, that for several, if not many years, 
the colored citizens of Boston celebrated the anniversary of 
the act of the British Parliament by which, in 1833, slavery 
in the colonies of Great Britain was abolished. A procession 
bearing British and American flags traversed the streets, greeted 
by the cheers of fun-loving youngsters. 

Christmas Day was not in favor with our ancestors, and a 
record remains of the General Court in 1659 against "observino- 
Christmas either by forbearing of labor or by feasting." In my 
youthful days Christmas was kept only by Episcopalians, except 
by some little playful remembrance, as putting up the stockings 
for St. Nicholas, and perhaps listening to the pattering of his 
sleigh on tlie roof. When I attended Mr. Abbot's school, for the 
first time we petitioned for the privilege of Christmas, which 
was granted. 

Now Christmas has become an almost universal holiday, and 
the German custom of the Christmas tree robs our forests of 
many a fair ornament which only blossoms for a day, but might 
remain a blessinf; for a generation. 

New Year's Day was rather a favorite with old Boston, 
although not a legal holiday. It was an important business 
day for settling up the accounts of the year, and the New York 
custom of making calls was never established here. But friends 
exchanged gifts and many people had family parties. It 
has always been a cherished day to me, when the sun mounts 



40 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

up and the long cheerful days begin. It is one of Nature's 
great days. 

At the present, vacations in the summer range from about 
nine weeks in the public schools, to fifteen or sixteen weeks in 
the private schools, and about three months in the colleges and 
universities. Besides these relaxations Saturdays are usually 
omitted. The Christmas vacation often extends to a fortnight. 
Washington's and Lincoln's birthdays are school festivals. Fast 
Day is changed to commemorate the patriotic day on April 19, 
and Bunker Hill on June 17. One or two weeks are usually 
given in the spring, or at Easter week. Commemoration Day 
keeps the memory of the heroes of the war in May, and Labor 
Day is celebrated in September. 

So long are the summer vacations that now we come back to 
the early days of winter and summer schools, as formerly to 
accommodate the farmer boys, and numerous vacation or summer 
schools are arranged in country towns or mountain or sea 
resorts. 

So far has the rage for vacation prevailed that our late dis- 
tinguished teacher, Mr. Cushing, wittily said that if he wished 
to make a new school popular he should advertise that it should 
be all vacation. 



Ednah P. Little bale. 

Photogravure by John Andrew and Son. — Photographed 
from a portrait by Page, 1846. 



EARLY FRIENDS. 41 



CHAPTER III. 

EARLY FRIENDS. 

I would for my life a fragrant garland twine, 
And each living flower should be almost divine ; 
Of sweet human flowers my wreath I would coinpose, 
And with the silver cord of Love I would bind it close. 

TN speaking of the early time, I wish to mention a set of young 
men whom we used to call " the clique," men of brightness 
and literary ability, who made a most pleasant addition to our 
society. 

I was first introduced to James T. Fields as a young poet; 
and his handsome dark hair and eyes, ready wit, Byronic collar, 
and fluent speech well answered the description, — one of the 
most kindly and genial of men, who as author and publisher did 
great service to our infant literature, although his advice to 
Louisa Alcott was : " Go back to your sewing, for you will never 
make a success with your pen." 

E P "W had no pretensions to beauty, but his 

fine knowledge of literature, his keen critical sense and great 
powers of conversation, made him a delightful companion. 

T G was the Adonis of the circle : black curling hair, 

not in those days shaved to the crown like a monk's, with a 
dark, rich complexion, soft, melting eyes, and a voice with pro- 
found tragedy and tender sweetness in it, gave him an almost 
irresistible fascination for the moment, until you learned that 
your friends had enjoyed the same tender pressure of the hand, 
and the same demonstrative glance of the eye. He had remark- 
able ability in imitating celebrated actors, especially Booth, and 



42 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

filled you with horror as he recited tragic pieces. Starr King said 
of him that he was " almost a genius — not quite." He was very 
fond of Art, but devoted the early part of his life to business ; 
beginning Sculpture when, perhaps, nearly forty years of age. 
He achieved some success, however, his most distinguished work 
being the statue of the King of the Sandwich Islands, now at 
Honolulu. 

Starr King established his own character and fame so fully 
that I need say nothing of him, except how very much we en- 
joyed his companionsliip, as we met him at Gloucester and 
elsewhere. 

But one of the most peculiar persons was a young lawyer, 

H W , whose life might " point a moral," if not " adorn 

a tale." I first met him when he was a schoolboy at Exeter 
Academy, but afterward lost sight of him, until one evening he 
joined a cousin who was visiting me, while walking home irom 
an Emerson lecture. He belonged to a very fine anti-slavery 
circle in Maine, and was at that time intimate with people of 
the same character in Boston, and apparently full of zeal and 
earnestness in all good things, a great lover of literature, and 
having an inexhaustible store of entertaining anecdote. I have 
known him to stand for an hour after he had risen to go, telling 
one witty anecdote or joke after another. I am indebted to 
him for my first acquaintance with Shelley, Burke, Coleridge, 
and many other good authors. At that time he was very gentle 
and kind in his manner, and very helpful and sympathetic in 
trouble. After the dark days came, a lady said of him, " I can 
never forget his kindness to my poor, dead children." I also 
felt it at the time of my dear little sister's death. I do not 
know how much he ever accomplished in his profession, but his 
social talent made him welcome in many circles. I think the 
demon of social ambition took possession of him, and he began 
to seek and gain admittance among those who did not share the 
reform views in which he had been brought up. He perhaps 



EARLY FRIENDS. 43 

never failed to admire Emerson, and often exerted himself to 
get up lectures for him, but he could join in the sneering tone 
which he heard from George Hillard, and other men of that 
stamp. I am disposed to repeat an anecdote which I had 
printed elsewhere, to illustrate this change. He was at my 
mother's at a party one evening, the day after Mr. Emerson had 

given his lecture on Memory. Mrs. H , a friend of his, and 

I, were sitting on the sofa talking about it, when he came up to 
us and said : " Oh ! that was all very fine, very pleasant, but 
what did it all amount to ? I can't remember anything he said, 
can you?" "Yes," I replied; "he said, ' Shallow brains have 
short memories.' " He good-naturedly replied, " I might have 
known I should get that from you." But the poison worked 
still deeper ; he deserted the old anti-slavery standard, and his 
former friends ; and when the fugitive slave, Simms, was carried 
away, he rose early in the morning to be one of the guard to 
see him safely off, lest he should be rescued. 

I know little about his professional life, except that he seems 
to have undertaken the office of securing pensions for the sol- 
diers, and we were very much amused at his offering his services 
to my mother to secure her one. My father was a member of 
the old New England Guards, who were called out to defend 
the "Constitution" when she was on the stocks in Charlestown, 
during the war with England. The soldiers had a merry time, 
with no prospect of danger. My father lived to be sixty-three 
years old in good health, and got his full reward for his services 
in the pleasure he had in telling stories about his only military 
service ; so his destitute widow and orphans never made any 
claim on a grateful country. 

Mr. W 's whole demeanor changed after the chanoe in 

his principles. He became rude and overbearing to his acquaint- 
ances of earlier times. But I was indeed startled when I 
heard that he had attempted to commit suicide, and that his 
pecuniary affiiirs were in a wretched condition, involving the 



44 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

property of some of his truest friends. Through the kindness 
of his brother, he appeared to retrieve his circumstances. He 
afterward married ; but I knew little of his later life, until the 
papers announced that he had disappeared from a Fall Eiver 
boat, for which he had taken a ticket, and, so far as I know, he 
has never been heard from again. 

Another friend did not exactly belong to the " clique," but 
was a prominent member of our circle ; this was a young Uni- 
tarian minister, James Richardson by name. He was a man of 
rare powers, quick fancy, and lively and sympathetic feelings. 
It was quite in vain to be angry with him, for he charmed your 
animosity by his wit, his sympathetic kindness, and his imper- 
turbable good-nature; but his organ of fiction was largely 
developed and in full activity, and his readiness to sympathize 
with everybody else prevented his having any very fixed stand- 
ards of his own. He was very readily welcomed by the parishes, 
and won all hearts at first by his charming qualities. A very 
frank woman asked me, when he was settled in her native town, 
if he was perfectly triithful. I rather evaded the question, and 
she afterward said, " You did n't answer my question the first 
time I asked you, and by the next time I saw you, I had no 
need to ask you." 

Samuel Johnson used to call him the "flying prophet;" but 
he went through life shedding a great deal of pleasure and 
happiness around him, and making friends even of those who 
saw his faults most plainly. When the war broke out, James, 
who .had never done any fighting in his life, joined the army as 
a common soldier. His commander had the good sense to see 
that he would not excel in that capacity, but employed him 
first on clerkly duty, and then he was sent to the hospitals. 
Here he was in his element ; he sympathized with the suffering 
men, wrote their letters, told them stories, sang them hymns or 
songs, and diffused his own spirit of hope and good cheer 
throughout the wards. He took the fever at last, and died in 



EARLY FRIENDS. 45 

his calling. " Nothing in his life became him like the leaving 
of it." 

Letter from Mary Shannon. 

Cincinnati, May 23, 1863. 

And among the rest came James Eichardaon. We were dehghted 
to meet, most especially at that time when fresh incidents were coming 
constantly from the hattlefield. Mr. R. is in his true sphere and 
doing a world of good going to and from the battle-field — hunting up 
the lost or missing — writing letters for the wounded and dying — 
getting hack-pay for the poor soldiers — assisting the widow and 
fatherless to obtain pensions. In fact he is doing a little of every- 
thing. He sends me some of the moat thrilling letters from parents, 
where they willingly gave up their sons' lives for the good of their 
country. James Richardson's face is radiant with sympathy and 
love. He is indefatigable in his labors. * 

In the Harvard Divinity School I had several interesting 
acquaintances. I especially cherish one young man, George J'en- 
ner from Providence. He gave great promise in thought and 
poetry, as his one little volume of poems shows, and he became 
a minister in Cincinnati ; but he died early of consumption. 

George Wm. H was not counted among my friends, but 

his extraordinary career was well fitted to serve " a moral." He 
was of Southern origin, and of remarkably handsome person, 
and fascinating manners. He wrote poems, and especially 
hymns, of extreme beauty and high spirituality, several of 
which were adopted into popular hymn-books, and became 
favorites of devout worshippers. But he was utterly unfaithful 
to his loves, and he was equally untruthful and dishonest in 
his general character. Before the opening of the Civil War, 
when he was in London, he wrote an excellent essay on 
Slavery, which was quoted with admiration in Congress. But 

* An interesting memoir of him appeared in the Harvard book which recorded 
the lives of the graduates who entered the Union army. 



46 KEMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

at the beginning of the war he had returned to Charleston, 
S. C. The Confederates arrested him as an abolitionist, but while 
he remained in prison he was surrounded with admiring women, 
who sent him beautiful flowers. He was released from prison, 
and returned to New York, where he wrote for the " New York 
World." It was supposed that he was discharged that he might 
do greater service in the Confederate cause by his work at the 
North than at the South. 

His checkered course ran from being picked up from the 
gutter in New York, and being arrested for theft in the same 
city, to the most favored circles in England and America which 
his talent opened to him. He wronged many women, and 
cheated many men, but finally married. I have lately heard 
that he w^as fortunate in his marriage, and sincerely mourned 
by his widow. He afterwards travelled and lectured in Cali- 
fornia. He was a most impressive instance of great charm and 
high talent, with even spiritual insight, but of the most base 
character, such as I have often heard of in novels, but the 
only one witli whom I ever came in contact. He was recog- 
nized as Densdeth in Winthrop's remarkable story of " Cecil 
Dreeme." 

Among the interesting friends of my girlhood was John P. 
Hale, of Dover, New Hampshire, a relative of my friends, the 
Hales and Lowes. He w^as a young lawyer of most genial and 
warm-hearted nature, burly in appearance and frank in speech 
and manner. He had enjoyed the lively pleasures of youth, 
and begun his career in politics as a promising Democrat in 
New Hampshire. The Rev. John Parkman was then settled 
over the Unitarian church in Dover; he saw in this young 
lawyer the promise of much higher service to humanity than 
a Democratic politician would render, and he sent to him 
regularly Garrison's paper, " The Liberator." Mr. Hale read 
it first out of respect to his pastor, but soon became deeply 
interested in the anti-slavery view.s, and insisted upon paying 



EARLY FRIENDS. 47 

the subscription himself. From that time he became an active 
Mend of tlie shive, and after a warm contest against the Dem- 
ocratic candidate, he was finally sent to Congress, where he 
took a brave stand against the slave power. When taunted by 
another member, that he stood alone in his views, his manly 
reply was, " I came here to stand alone." Although so strongly 
opposed to them, his genial manners and kind heirt made him 
a favorite with the other members. My own introduction to him 
was characteristic and amusing. I was introduced at a party 
in Dover, and the conversation fell upon Bulwer's " Zanoni," a 
novel then much in favor with us young transcendentalists. 
We talked earnestly about it, and at last he led me up to his 
wife, and introduced me, saying, "Here is a young woman who 
thinks." We became warm friends and correspondents, but I 
have unfortunately lost his few letters. I heard him speak in 
defence of the rioters who rescued Shadrach, the only time I 
ever went into a court-room. He was nominated by the Lib- 
erty party for President, but of course did not gain an election. 
I remember well one excellent piece of advice which he gave 
us when my father died. He said to my sisters : " My dear 
girls, I suppose you think it is impossible that you will ever 
quarrel about money, but I beg of you to have everything 
settled in as thoroughly business-like manner as if you were 
perfect strangers, and then you will always keep good friends." 
We followed his advice; my older sister settled the estate 
without a mistake of a dollar in the accounts, and we have 
never had any money troubles in the family. 

The last time I saw Daniel Webster was in Mr. Hale's 
company. Mr. Hale was then staying with us, at the time of 
the celebration of the introduction of the Cochitnate water into 
Boston ; Mr. Healy, the painter, had his large picture of " Web- 
ster's reply to Hayne in the Senate," on exhibition in the 
Athenaeum building on Beacon Street. Mr. Hale and I went 
up to see it, and found Mr. Webster there with the artist, who 



48 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

was explaining the picture to him, and of course surrounded 
by an admiring crowd. As Mr. Hale was then decidedly in 
opposition to Mr. Webster, he did not care to join the crowd, 
and we went up to the front, close to the railing which sur- 
rounded the picture. Suddenly Mr. Healy proposed to Mr. 
Webster to come forward, and see the details of the picture 
more clearly, and before we were aware of it we were so 
closely shut in by the crowd that we could not escape, and I 
was within a yard or two of Mr. Webster, and could narrowly 
watch his face. Never did I see anything so powerful and so 
tragic ; the deep, cavernous eyes seemed to have lost every spark 
of life, love, and hope. I said to myself, " Paralysis will soon 
have its victim." His death occurred shortly afterward. 

As I have spoken of Mr. Healy, I will now tell something of 
my pleasant acquaintance with him, although it began some 
time afterward. My first impression was not agreeable ; he was 
then in the zenith of popularity, and had acquired a certain 
degree of French manner, which did not rightly express his 
warm nature, and true, loyal heart. He painted a portrait of 
Mr. Cheney in 1852, but while it was agreeable in color, I did 
not feel that it did justice to his character. 

I afterwards saw much of Mr. Healy in his own home in 
Paris, and found him always a true, loyal, and affectionate friend ; 
but one remark of his I must recall. Women Suffrage was 
just beginning to attract attention, and as he had several 
daughters for whom he could make small provision, the subject 
of tlie employment of women interested him very much. After 
a long talk, in which the right of women to hold office as well 
as to vote had been considered, he said : " Do I understand you 
aright ? Would you have ladies go to Congress unattended? " 
This was a difficulty that had not occurred to my American 
mind. His wife was a delightful English woman, who made a 
hospitable and attractive home, 

I must remember also a cousin of Mr. Cheney's who was a very 



• 
EAKLY FRIENDS. 49 

interesting and peculiar person, and very dear to me. " Cousin 
Jane " was hard to describe. She had a long and deep and 
varied experience of life, though she never travelled far from 
her own home. 

She had very hard sufferings from early poverty and from 
domestic trials, through which she was devotedly unselfish. She 
was almost entirely deprived of early education, but always 
dearly loved instruction and had a natural inclination for a 
teacher. She began in a little district school, and there she 
thought out many of the principles and plans from her own 
mind which now are credited to the kindergarten ; but the com- 
mittee objected to allowing her " to clutter up the schoolroom 
with stones and mosses and other natural objects, to waste the 
children's time with." When over forty years of age, she went 
to a normal school to improve her education. She found a kind 
friend in the late Mr. Philbrick, who appreciated her natural 
gifts and assisted her in the work. 

She was an early member of the Methodist church, and was a 
bigoted and rigid, but conscientious member. When she found 
a house with a yard full of flowers, she once said that she thought, 
" As a professor lived there, she did not think, she could have 
religion, to spend her time on flowers." Afterwards, she became 
wholly liberated, and rejoiced in everything. She loved to hear 
Beecher or Parker or Emerson, and enjoyed the opera or the 
circus. Her whole nature seemed to be hungry and thirsty for 
thought and knowledge ; but it was necessarily hastily acquired, 
and without system and regularity. 

She was very kind and helpful to any person in need, but 
she was strong in her prejudices and did not always judge people 
rightly. The Methodists had a custom of having testimony in 
meeting, and she afterwards often offended a minister by too 
frank criticism, in manner or matter. 

She was under the yoke of fear of the devil in her youth, but 
after her release she wrote, " Cousin John, thank God, I am out 

4 



50 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

of Hell." Afterwards came the dread of horses and railroads, 
and every other dangerous thing, but she w^as brave as a lion for 
the truth, and would stand up before the world for righteousness. 
Still, she was shy and diffident ; and often, in the effort to hide 
her feeling, she appeared rude and ill-bred. She was very 
original in many expressions, especially in her prayers, which 
she used to suit the occasion. When some friends, lovers of 
nature, were visiting her, she said, " Did you have to come here 
to show me everything is beautiful about me ? " 

She was wont to say all she wanted " for heaven was to have 
her debts paid, her feet warm, and a clear conscience." When 
once sitting cosily by her fire to warm her feet, she said, " Oh, I 
hope we shall have Jires in heaven." " Why, I thought that was 
what you hoped to escape from there," answered Mrs. P. 

In her last days she had a pension from her relatives of four 
hundred a year, on which she felt as rich as a king, and in her 
little boarding-house chamber, she always spoke of her " ten- 
acre lot," in which she had boundless treasure of all manner 
of relics and letters, autographs and photographs, which were a 
constant delight to her.* 

Letter of Jane Cheney to E. D. C. 

We met at the liouse of Mr. Ealph Phelps for the purpose of mak- 
ing and quilting spreads for the soldiers. I can assure you that it was 
a proud day for me — my mother's spirit seemed moving about the 
rooms, for in this same house, when our country was at peace, my 
mother was for many years cold and hungry ; but now when our coun- 
try is being enveloped in darkness and suffering, and want comes to our 
soldiers, there are seen five warm spreads passing from out of this same 
house for the poor wounded soldiers in some hospital. Cynthia was 
with me that day and we asked Mrs. Phelps if we might go over the 
house, so we went into every room, and out in the well-room we found 
a Beaufat that was made when the house was built, and formed the 
chief ornament of the parlor. Cyuthia made the remark that our 

* See Appendix. 



EARLY FRIENDS. 51 

mother had probably opened and sliut that Beaufat door nearly a 
thousand times ; so I said to myself I must have this purchased and 
brought down to my school as a relic. I named this to John, who 
said that it must be put in some room at the homestead, but I shall 
dispute his claim. Coming home that night we proposed Avalking 
through the pines — the moon was up, and shone through the trees, 
giving us just light enough to make the walk not romantic nor patri- 
otic, but something that approached to the spiritual ; it only needed 
your presence to make it just right. I wish I could find a word that 
expressed the feeling I sometimes experience. 

From Jane Cheney. 

\_0n returning from Boston.^ 

I took Miss Carter's book to read in the cars, together with some 
knitting-work ; but I did not even untie the wrapper, nor take out 
the needles and yarn. Now what do you guess I did 1 Well, I did 
just what a cow does when she has been feeding all day in the meadow 
and has come home to the barnyard. I did nothing but set up a great 
thinking ; I chewed over all the pleasant things that I had enjoyed ; 
I took a look at those living pictures at the Women's Club and at the 
Horticultural Hall and heard again the two lectures on Work and Im- 
mortality ; or, in other words, I ruminated. 

Harriot Kezia Hunt was among the most remarkable and 
characteristic of the pioneers of women physicians. I acknowl- 
edge her great services. She was a native of Boston of the 
stock of the old North End, so rich in life and character, full of 
intelligent mechanics, brave seamen, and thoughtful, self-reliant 
women who gave to our young city a balance of sturdy strength, 
for the somewhat exclusive refinement of the hilltops of old 
Boston. 

Miss Hunt had not the advantages of college education, but 
had the best private schools, and she eagerly received all the 
knowledge which was offered her from any source. 

From an experience of severe illness in her family she gained 



52 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

the acquaintance of an English physician. Dr. Valentine Mott, 
from whom she first acquired an insight into the medical pro- 
fession. She applied to Harvard for medical instruction, but in 
vain, and she proceeded therefore to learn all she could and 
to practise any good for others which she attained for herself. 
She finally received a degree from the Philadelphia women's 
college. 

She was full of intuitive perception, and drank a full draught 
of all the theories and truths which came to her. She had great 
insight into the mental states of her patients and had a spiritual 
guidance of her whole life. Many women who sought her in 
trouble or sorrow, were deeply indebted to her sympathy and 
assistance. Her joyous laugh was most contagious and often 
proved the best prescription to her patient. She was brave 
to the uttermost! She protested against the imposition of 
her taxes, and when she was obliged to go to the court-house 
to recover some property stolen from her, she insisted that the 
chains which had been put across the entrance to secure the 
fugitive slaves from rescue, should be put down ; she would not 
stoop under a chain. She was full of all manner of activities, 
of philanthropic actions, sentimental affections, and practical 
wisdom. One person said, " She is Sancho Panza in petticoats," 
Another said, " I have great respect for Miss Hunt in her 
character and conduct, but she makes every aesthetic hair rise 
up on my head." She was attached to the Swedenborgian 
church, but her large liberality included all sects. She revered 
from childhood John Murray, the apostle of Universalis m. 
She loved to preach in a Methodist meeting or in a Unitarian 
gathering, and she was a warm advocate of Theodore Parker. 

When she had practised twenty-five years she celebrated 
her silver wedding, as she called it, in most original and 
characteristic style. Her many friends gathered about her, 
her home was overwhelmed with a profusion of flowers, and 
her own and her sisters' heads were wreathed with double 



EARLY FRIENDS. 53 

wreaths; a pure gold ring was given her to consecrate the 
marriage to her profession. 

She was a rare type of woman in whom heart and intellect, 
fancy and sound common-sense were all min<Tled in stran<>-e 
profusion. She liad faults and petty failings enough, but withal 
she made a path for women on which many a noble successor 
has followed.* 

How can I tell all the richness of this time ? I have spoken 
of some of the great men and women whom it was my privilege 
to know, but how can I tell a tithe of memories of — 

" The Good, the Noble in their prime, 
Who made this world the feast it was ! " 

Dear, sweet Anne Gore, I wonder if she did not do me good 
by believing in me and loving me enthusiastically and inordi- 
nately out of the fulness of her own heart and not of my merits. 

"You must have a strong head," .said R A one day, if 

you can stand such admiration. I think it rather sobered me 
when I saw how much more truly good and unconscious she was 
than I could find myself to be. Her cousin, Sarah B. Dana, 
was a rare nature, very poetic and extremely sensitive to others' 
feelings. 

Mary C. Shannon was the noblest and most harmoniously 
blended woman it was ever my blessed fortune to know and 
love. Her physique was majestic, and her manners suggested the 
high type of natural nobility. When I have looked upon Van- 
dyke's exquisite portraits of the aristocratic women of his day, I 
have said, " That is what we want, with the spirit of democracy 
added to it." In Mary C. Shannon, and in another friend of 

Southern birth and anti-slavery principles, Miss F M , 

I have seen this type expressed. Miss Shannon's queenly bear- 
ing was blended with the most tender loving care for every 
human being who came under her influence. Her will was 



* See "Glances and Glimpses," by Harriot K. Hunt. 



54 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

strong and commanding. I put myself into her hands, and the 
sway was as wise as it was sweet and loving. The tenderest of 
nurses, she brought sleep to my pillow and rest to my soul. 

Her sympathies were not confined to humanity, though she 
never to animals "gave up what was meant for mankind." 
She was kind to all, but dogs, horses, and cats were her special 
favorites. She believed in their immortality, and like the 
Indian could not look forward to "a Heaven in which her 
faithful dog should not bear her company." They responded 
to her love, and when she came home bowed down by grief, 
old Bruno, who was wont to leap around her in wild gambols of 
welcome, walked by her side and bowed his head when he saw 
the grief in her face. She said she " felt his sympathy as deeply 
as that of a human friend." 

Her garden gave relief to a heart oppressed by many sorrows. 
She felt the need of the plants and gave them as by instinct 
the care which each one needed. She would rub the earth in 
her hands and say, "Only feel the life in it," recognizing the 
blessino; that was to come out of it. The arrantrement of 
flowers was her means of artistic expression. She spoke her 
loving thoughts through them as clearly as another might by 
words or music. Once when I was in deep anxiety, I received 
a box from her. On opening, it seemed to contain cut flowers 
laid in loosely. I felt as if a friend had sent me a page of a 
dictionary instead of a letter. But on looking a little farther 
I found the.se flowers only put in to fill the box, and below 
was the beautifully arranged bouquet full of her thought and 
love. Full of practical wisdom and ability, and ready to serve 
in the humblest or the hardest work that was needful, she 
made " drudgery divine," and filled every moment with spiritual 
life. Tender and deep in her religious nature, she was broad 
and progressive in her thought, a dear and honored friend of 
John Weiss, Samuel Johnson, and Theodore Parker, an original 
member of the Free Religious Association, an active Abolition- 



EARLY FRIENDS, 00 

ist, a friend of the Freeclman's schools, and a thorough Woman 
Suffragist. I have been blessed in knowing many noble women, 
but I have never known one more perfect than she. 

" A perfect woman nobl)- planned 
To warn, to comfort and command ; 
And yet a spirit still and bright 
With something of an angel's light." 

Her niece, Mary Shannon, Jr., survived her fourteen years. 
When, as a little child, she was rescued from the unfit guardian- 
ship of her mother, her aunt's unfailing influence of love and 
goodness brought abundant fruit from a strong and rich soil. 
They were unlike, and yet their harmony was perfect. Less 
poetic than her aunt, but with fine intellectual perceptions and 
the strongest principles of integrity and honor, united with 
sound practical judgment and warm affections, she repaid the 
unfailing devotion of her aunt by wise management, and tender 
care in her old age, and always carried into her daily life the 
same generous love and care for others. She was faithful to 
the friends of her youth in all the trials of their lives, and many 
a family were saved from distress by her wise and provident care. 
Decided in all her opinions and warm in her feelings, her love 
of country was unbounded. She lived through the war, and 
never forgot its great lessons. Always an Abolitionist her 
interest in the negro was constant and helpful, and especially 
she rejoiced in the noble career of Booker T. Washington, and 
was constantly his wise adviser and generous friend. 

She never shrank from the expression of her patriotic feelings. 
She died suddenly on the anniversary of the battle of Lexington, 
1901. She seemed in her usual health the night before, and 
she directed that the country's flag should be hung out early 
in the morning for the country's festival. When the morning 
dawned, the great heart that had so loved its country had 
ceased to beat, and the flag at half-mast told the sad tale to 
passers-by. She loved life passionately. In spite of dark 



56 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

troubles she believed in this world and in humanity. Nothing 
could shake her faith in the power that rules over all ; and this 
love and this faith made her perfectly sure of continued life, 
eternal love, and constant progress. Who can doubt that when 
she ceased to breathe our common air she entered into the 
communion of blessed spirits and a life of richer love and 
service ? 

How delightful were my su!nmers at the sea-shore, especially 
at my father's early home, dear old Gloucester, where after a 
long interval of absence we went as the first summer boarders. 
As I had then some young relations in the town, we mingled 
with the young people of the place, and had the merriest of 
drives and walks and picnics with them. Every generation 
has its joys, but I cannot conceive of anything so pleasant now 
as the old fishing parties at Bass Eocks, when we conscientiously 
ate all the cunners caught, with the brown rashers of pork, and 
the large round pilot bread which first served us for a plate and 
afterwards was eaten with its contents. A crowd of children 
from the town usually surrounded us and finished up all our 
leavings. The dear old matrons were ready to stay with the 
frying-pan and the coffee-pot, while we clambered over the 
cliffs and listened for the roar of the Devil whicli Cotton Mather 
heard among the rocks, or searched for his moving rock, which 
may still be seen to-day by careful and believing eyes. How 
I enjoyed the long walks into the country with father, who 
would often stop to speak to some old lad)'- sitting in tlie sun 
on the doorstep, who would not recognize the portly gentleman 
from Boston until he said, " Why, don't you remember Sargent 
in Mr. Mansfield's store ? " The boy in the leading grocery 
store was well remembered. Gloucester was an ancient town 
and full of interesting legends and quaint old names. How I 
hate to have " Eastern Point " and " Little Good Harbor Beach," 
and "Up in Town," and "Done Fudging," and "Vinson's 
Spring," and all those dear old names swept away to give place 



EARLY FRIENDS. 57 

to " downs " and " dunes " and " avenues " and even " boule- 
vards," for all I know. 

Here I first met Charles F. Hovey, who revolutionized the 
business methods of retail business in Boston. The simple 
fidelity to truth and openness of dealing were united to thorough 
knowledge of business affairs, and secured the confidence of his 
customers and soon obliged the whole trade to follow liis exam- 
ple. For more than fifty years " Hovey's " has been a synonym 
for perfect fairness and excellence in business, and has effect- 
ively given the lie to the common false maxims that honesty 
and uprightness are not the true methods of success. Mr. 
Hovey was a very radical reformer in all things, but he was 
a most genial and kind-hearted man and a perfect gentleman, 
as much at home and as happy in an elegant drawing-room 
as he was with the fishermen on the beach. 

At Marblehead Neck, where we were again pioneers, we made 
the acquaintance of the Curtis family who have been true and 
dear friends ever since, — not the "slave-catcliing Curtises," but 
good Transcendentalists and Abolitionists. In this quiet retreat 
we read and studied more than we frolicked, but had many a 
glorious walk and swim. 

Then there was my dear cliild, Ariana S. Walker, an ^olian 
harp sensitive to every wind and making music from them 
all. A quick, bright, naturally passionate nature, full of keen 
desires and intellectual longings and anjbitions, she was dis- 
ciplined by severe sufferings and bereavements to exquisite 
patience, but with keenest sympathy to all other sufferers. 
Obliged to spend most of her time in quiet surroundings with 
books for her companions, she lived in a world of poetry and ro- 
mance, and wove subtle webs of fancy and dreams. She called 
forth the love of all around her, and the village children brought 
her flowers, and every offering of beauty they could find so that 
she led them into the secrets of nature and blessed them as 
much as they cheered and enriched her life. On her death-bed 



58 EEMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

she married the young poet to whom she had been an inspira- 
tion of love and hope. While his later years have been given 
to noble duties and wide humanities, she has never ceased to be 
the star of his life, and his home, the centre of kindly affection, 
generous hospitality and care for the unfortunate, has both by 
him and his unselfish wife been dedicated to her living memory. 

I must not forget my cousin and life-long friend, Jane W. 
Dow, of Portland. Her sparkling beauty and her fascinating 
manners charmed young and old, but if she broke many hearts 
they were always finally healed, and she remained friends with 
whom she had wounded. She had much talent both for music 
and for poetry, and continued her studies in music after her 
seventieth year. She was full of wit and charming conversation 
which delighted her large circle wherever she went. 

She married happily General Anderson of Portland. 



AFTER MARRIAGE. 59 



CHAPTER IV. 

AFTER MARRIAGE. 

" If e'er I have a house, my dove, 
That truly is called mine, 
And can afford but countr)' cheese, 
Or aught that 's as good therein; . 
Though thou wert rebel to the king. 
And beat with wind and rain, 
Assure thyself of welcome, love. 
For old lang syne." 

Allan Ramsay. 

" A poor widow, some deal stoop'n in age, 
Was whilom dwelling in a narwe cottage 
Beside a grove standing in a dale." 

Chaucer. 

T WAS married in 1853, but I shall say but little of those pre- 
cious years of my life, because I have already spoken of them 
in my memoir of my husband, and they seem to contain nothing 
apart from him. 

We sailed for Liverpool in the "Niagara," August 2d, 1854; 
but, strangely enough, I have but little to say of this great ex- 
perience of a first visit to Europe. I was almost wholly absorbed 
in personal matters. My acquaintance with the pictures of 
Millet, and my one sight of him made an impression which has 
never been effaced. It was a great happiness to see Art with 
Mr. Cheney ; but a veil of sadness covers the whole time, and 
I must let it pass. 

On our return from Europe, we remained at Manchester, until 
the birth of my daughter, on September 8th, 1855. This great 
joy was saddened by Mr. Cheney's continued illness, and we 
remained mostly at Manchester, until his death in 1856, when 
I returned to Boston, with my baby, then about a year old, and 



60 EEMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

took possession of a house belonging to my father's estate, No. 
94 Chestnut Street. My old friend, Augusta R. Curtis, spent a 
year or two with me. She was devoted to the child, and did 
much to make the empty house a home. 

The first thing that awoke me to the claims of duty outside 
of my own house was a visit from Dr. Zakrzewska, wlio was 
then in Boston on a mission to raise funds for the New York 
Infirmary, and had been sent to me by my friend, Harriot K. 
Hunt. It seemed impossible to enter into her earnest, enthusi- 
astic views at that time, but she would not let nie rest in the 
indolence and selfishness of grief, but impressed me with her 
own noble and unselfish character. Her life has been partly, 
written by herself and edited by Mrs. Dall, and I hope that her 
friends will complete her reminiscences ; but I must give my 
testimony to her large genius, and still larger heart. Of quick, 
impatient temper, and brusque manners, somewhat characteristic 
of her country, she sometimes gave offence, yet in forty years 
of working together, I found her the most unselfish of human 
beings, and entirely devoted to the interests of humanity. Her 
many and trying experiences of life gave her a deep interest 
and tender compassion for the sufferings of others, and she was 
as tender of the feelings, as careful of the welfare of the most 
humble and ignorant, as of the most lofty and accomplished. 
To her, more than to any other human being, is due the success 
of women in America, in the noble profession in which she led 
the way. To Elizabeth R. Blackwell must be given the credit 
of first entering the profession herself, and she has had a career 
of great service and fame, but she was of English birth, and left 
America for England — where she is still living (1901). And 
she has not so identified herself with the work in America as her 
German follower, who always looked up to her with reverence 
and love.* 

» She died May 12, 1902. She was of an ancient Polish family. 



Seth W. Cheney. 

Photogravure by John Andrew and Son. — From a 
miniature painting by Dubourjal, 1834. 



AFTER MARRIAGE. 61 

The next few years seem almost a blank to memory, except 
for the delight of my child's development, and the sweetness 
of the relations growing up, and the interest of little children 
who first called me " Aunt Ednah," and who occasionally came 
for a short time under my care. 

One thing, however, stands out prominent — the Hospital for 
women and children. For three years this hospital was con- 
nected with the Medical College already started. When we 
took an independent position for the hospital, I became its 
Secretary, and continued so until the resignation of the Presi- 
dent, in 1887, when I was chosen to fill her place, which office 
I have held until the present time, 1902. I have written the 
history of this work elsewhere, and here I can only say what it 
has been to me. First is the warm friendship of the President, 
Miss Lucy Goddard, a woman of rare qualities of mind and 
heart, but whose brusque manners often caused her to be greatly 
misunderstood. She was utterly unselfish, but impatient of con- 
tradiction ; " Let me have my own way, I shall live the longer " 
was a favorite expression of hers. Her own way was generally 
a very good one. She had fine intellectual powers ; her literary 
taste was excellent ; she was an intimate friend of Emerson, a 
warm admirer of James Freeman Clarke, and many other men 
of similar stamp. Her artistic sense was very fine, and showed 
itself in a rare power of decoration with flowers. She was en- 
gaged by the city to arrange the decorations for Governor 
Andrew's funeral. 

Wlien some one once praised the decoration of a Fair table, 
attributing it to me, Mr. Clarke said, " I 've great respect for Mrs. 
Cheney ; but in decoration she can't hold a candle to Miss 
Goddai'd." She would not employ the ordinary heavy black in 
funeral draperies, but preferred a beautiful violet, which ex- 
pressed her own cheerful feeling about death and the thoughts 
that should accompany it. She was a most untiring and faith- 
ful friend and nurse in sickness. She lived to an extreme old 



62 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY, 

age, and it was very touching, when she was brought to the 
hospital, — her own home being closed at the time, — that she 
did not recognize the place for which she had done so much, and 
said it was the most delightful boarding-house she had ever 
seen, saying, "Everybody is so kind, and it seems as if they 
loved to take care of you." 

I cannot speak of all the dear friends who were engaged with 
me in this work, which I had the happiness to see advance from 
its small beginnings to full recognition and success. I must 
not, however, fail to mention the Fairs, which were held at 
intervals of about three years, to raise the necessary funds. 
Fairs are generally considered necessary evils, but they became 
occasion.s of much enjoyment and good fellowship. Giving up 
all raffles and other objectionable means, we endeavored to win 
favor only by the excellence of the articles offered, and the cour- 
tesy of those who tended the tables. I usually assisted Miss 
Goddard in the Fern table, and she did wonderful things in the 
way of preparing ferns for decoration. We sold hundreds of 
dollars' worth of the beautiful climbing fern * which was then 
rare, and we made many transparencies. Many things first 
introduced by us became regular objects of sale in the stores, 
thus introducing new methods of industry. In this, and in 
many other ways the Fair was soon a public benefactor. 

I will say nothing of the medical success of the work, which 
is well known to the public, except to mark the very uncertain 
character of all prophecies about the success of woman's work. 
In the beginning of our efforts for medical education, the remark 
was constantly made that women might be adapted well to 
nursing, as, indeed, they had always shown themselves, and even 
to the care of purely medical cases, but that they would utterly 
fail in surgery. Yet this has been precisely the department in 
which they have been most successful, and acquired marked 

* Lygodium palmatum. 



AFTER MARRIAGE. 63 

public recognition. In fact, so strong has been the predilection 
of women for this branch of medicine, that it has been necessary 
to discourage the applicants for it, instead of having difficulty in 
securing them. In surgery the results of skill are patent to all, 
and the success of a brilliant operation wins more attention than 
the long, patient, wise care of a medical case, although the 
latter may require equal mental and moral ability on the part 
of the physician. 

Our commodious and well-appointed surgical building was 
not created until our surgeons had done admirable work ; 
which won the confidence of the community under many 
disadvantages.* 

I have often been puzzled when asked to state my calling in 
life, and although often tempted to answer " Jack at all trades " 
or "Jack at a pinch," I liave more soberly answered, " Writer," 
feeling that I have never accomplished anything in literature 
that would entitle me to the name of author. 

It was my earliest ambition to belong to that honorable call- 
ing, since an artist's career was impossible, and I remember well 
when I thought that a book, sent with the " author's regards " 
would make me the proudest and happiest of women. I treasure 
still a little thin, yellow-covered copy of poems, with the auto- 
graph of my honored friend Edward Brackett (the sculptor) 
which was the first gift of the kind that I ever received. 

I began very early to scribble for my own amusement, and to 
write stories, the only interest of which now would be to show 
the tone of thought of " a girl of the period." 

My life was so sheltered, and I knew so little of passion or 
adventure, that I was always at a loss to get any bad people in. 
I could never make them have any relation to or influence in 
my good people's lives. I was no Calvinist, and error, igno- 



* Abundant record of this work may be found in the " History of the 
Hospital. " 



64 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

ranee, and weakness seemed much more real facts to me than the 
monster Sin. I used to delight the girls at school with my 
stories, which I presume were only rehashes of what I had read, 
but in later days I tried to express what life really meant to me, 
and to state, if not solve, the problems which interested me. 

None of these early stories were ever published ; and I know 
of only one extant, called " The Faithful and True." My heroes 
were always ministers or artists. I remember one story in which 
I tried to portray Mr. Alcott as counsellor and friend, in con- 
trast with my lively young cousin who served as the gay hero in 
my tales. When a schoolgirl I wrote many foolish things for 
a school paper, and afterwards with an older set of girls, among 
whom was Cornelia Walter, I wrote for a manuscript magazine 
called " The Mount Vernon Eeview." Mr. Walter, then editor 
of the " Transcript," occasionally printed some of my articles, 
and I was proud to make my first appearance as a poet in 
" Lines to the Morning Star." 

I experimented with a young friend of similar taste in offer- 
ing didactic articles to the newspapers; I need not say they 
were neglected. I very early made up my mind never to enter 
into newspaper controver>sies. This method of controversy 
seemed to me neither profitable nor agreeable, and I resolved 
that I would never answer a newspaper article except to correct 
some misstatement of facts. 

I had an amusing incident, and formed a valuable friendship 
from one of the first newspaper articles that I ever published. 
I wrote for a new paper called " The nationalist," a satirical 
article called " The Eights of Man," claiming that a man was 
entitled to all the rights to unselfishness, patience, purity, and 
obedience, and other virtues commonly assigned to women. 
It was published anonymously and attracted the attention of 
an eccentric but interesting farmer in Massachusetts. He ap- 
plied to the editor for the name of the writer, which was 
refused. He then sent me several pamphlets of his own 



AFTER MARRIAGE. 65 

writing. Having learned from my old teacher, Mr. Fowle, 
that he was a highly respectable though eccentric manied man 
with an independent fortune, living on a beautiful farm, I con- 
sented to see him. He was the son of Professor P , of 

Andover Theological School. He said he had no childhood, but 
was always a young student. He became a teacher in Professor 
Bolmar's school in Pennsylvania, but when about forty years 
old he received a large inheritance from his motlier's family, 
the Bromfields. When he found himself an independent man, 
his first thought was, " What could he do that would do no- 
body any harm ? " He decided that farming was the most 
innocent of amusements, and concluded to take possession of his 
estate and cultivate it. His next object was to secure a wife 
possessed of all imaginable perfections ; but being a very 
warm-hearted and impulsive man, he fell in love with a young 
woman from Maine who was his companion in a stage coach, 
because of her beautiful smile when she bade her friends "good- 
bye " at the door. His method succeeded, for after many years 
of happy marriage lie said, "If God Almighty had made a 
woman on purpose for me, he could not have done better." She 
was a genuine, healthy, intelligent, kind-hearted, and practical 
woman, but had little intellectual culture, and looked up to her 
husband as a marvel of erudition, so that the respect was 
mutual. 

They devoted themselves to the farm, which was beautifully 
situated near a small lake, with two avenues of noble elms, lead- 
ing one to the street and the other to the cemetery. He invited 
me to come and make him a visit in June, and I was so 
charmed with the place that our whole family spent several 
weeks at the hotel, which was a very good one. 

His religious views became very much enlarged and he had 
built a little chapel on his own grounds, where he either 
preached himself or engaged some other person, whose opinions 
he approved. His wife managed the dairy, and for many years 



66 KEMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

supplied " Parker's " with the super-excellent butter which de- 
lighted the epicures who frequeuted there. His house was acci- 
dentally burned to the ground. He spent several winters in 
Boston and was a constant visitor at our house, where all the 
family enjoyed his quaint humor and warm-hearted feeling. 
His education had been so neglected in childhood that he had 
never read Mother Goose until I presented him with a copy, 
which was among the few treasures saved from the ruin of the 
house. One room in that house was like the chamber in which 
they laid the pilgrim to rest, " that looked to the sunrising, and 
the name of that chamber was Peace." 

He became very much interested in Dr. Miner and left all 
his property, except a provision for his wife during her life, to 
Tufts College. 

I had published various articles in " The North American 
Eeview," and other periodicals, but I think that my first venture 
in a book form was a very little one called " The Hand Book for 
American Citizens," written for the use of the Preedmen's schools. 

It contained the Constitution of the United States and other 
historical matter, and some rules for conducting meetings. Lee 
& Shepard printed it for the advertisement on the covers, and it 
was sold to the schools for a few cents. 1866. 

Next came a little book, in 1871, called " Patience " a book of 
solitaire* games with cards. It lias been very popular and is an 
invaluable resource for invalids. The profits went to furnish 
libraries for the Freedmen. Another book of social games 
followed in 1871. 

I had spent a few memorable days at Thatcher's Island with 
my dear friend Mrs. Bray, and was so much interested in her 
adventures that I published a little story founded on one of them 
and called "Faithful to the Light" (in 1870). In 1873 and 

* When I have felt any temptation to literary vanity, I have corrected the 
impulse by remembering that I have had more gratitude for this than for anything 
else I have ever written. 



AFTER MARKIAGE. 67 

1874 I published two popular tales for young people called 
" Sally Williams " and " Child of the Tide." 

In 1875 I began my work in biography with a life of Susan 
Dimock, our first surgeon at the Hospital. She was a young 
woman of extraordinary talent and noble character, and her 
sudden death by shipwreck was a terrible blow to all who 
were interested in the cause of medical education for women.* 

In 1881 I printed memoirs of my husband, to give a cor- 
rect account of his life, as the notices of him in current pub- 
lications were very often erroneous ; and I afterwards added 
brief memoirs of my dear daughter, and of my brother-in-law 
John Cheney, the distinguished engraver. 

I edited, with the help of friends, a selection from Michael 
Angelo's poems, with translations, in the hope of promoting a 
knowledge of these works of the great artist. 1885. 

I also, in compliance with his will, edited the poems of my 
friend David A. Wasson. I prepared a brief Memoir of Mrs. 
Harriet E. Sewall at the request of her family, and also pub- 
lished the " Life of Louisa Alcott." 

In 1890 I published, for the benefit of our Hospital Fair, a 
little book which might appear rather audacious : " A Sequel to 
Ibsen's ' Doll's House.' " I was so moved to indignation by 
Walter Besant's conclusion of the book, which seemed to me 
wholly false to the original idea, that I hastily wrote my own 
solution, which I fear has little merit save in intention. 

Having become much interested in the work of the German 
sculptor Eauch while in Europe in 1892, I condensed the 
German life of him into one volume, hoping to introduce him 
to the attention of our sculptors, and the American world of 
Art. 

As Falstaff was " not only witty himself, but the cause of 
wit in others," so if I have not accomplished much in literature 

* Life of Susan Dimock, published by the N. E. Hospital. 



68 KEMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

myself, I caused the publication of a book which is a manual 
of knowledge, skill, and patience. 

While engaged in making a collection of my brother John 
Cheney's engravings, I had the valuable assistance of Mr. S. E. 
Koehler, the curator of engravings in the Boston Art Museum. 
He offered to make a catalogue of his work. It is a model of 
thorough care and faithful criticism, and is an instance of the 
perfect fidelity and exactness which ought to characterize every 
publication on contemporary Art. It was a work of love on 
his part, for it brought him no pecuniary reward. 

Mr. Koehler's loss to the Art Museum and to the study of 
Art is incalculable. 

I have neglected to speak of an earlier work called " Glean- 
ings in the Fields of Art," which is mainly a collection of my 
first lectures at the Concord School of Philosophy. 



Ednah Dauc Chmey. 

Photogravure by Jolin Andrew and Son. — From a 
crayon portrait by S. W. Cheney, i8';4 



THE SCHOOL OF DESIGN. 69 



CHAPTER V. 

THE SCHOOL OF DESIGN. 

"Thou canst not see grass grow, how sharp soe'er thou be, 
Yet that the grass has grown, thou very soon canst see. 
So, though thou canst not see thy work now prospering. 
The point of every work, time without fail shall show." 

RUcKEKT — Wisdmn of the Brahmins. 

TN the autumn of 1850 I came home from Gloucester ill with 
typhoid fever, as soon appeared. By the urgency of my 
dear friend, Mary Shannon, Dr. William Wesselhoefft * was 
called, as our old family physician, Dr. Fisher, had died a few 
years before. This M'as my first experience in Homeopathy, 
and of the noble, dear doctor who more entirely filled my ideal 
of a physician than any one I had ever known. He was a 
German of fine culture and intellectual attainments, who had 
known Goethe in his youth. I do not know what circumstances 
led him and his brother to America ; but they were settled for 
a time in Pennsylvania, where he pursued his profession as 
physician of the old school in which he had been educated. 
Through his observation of some interesting cases he was led 
to the study of Homeopathy, and accepted the theory and 
practice with enthusiasm. He was one of the earliest to come 
to Boston, and shared in the suffering from the opposition to 
the new method. An amusing proof of the popular feeling 
was given me by a lady who said that she could remember 
running rapidly by his house in Bedford Street, because she 
thought a murderer lived there. He was one of the most gener- 

* See Memorial of Dr. William Wesselhoefft published by Nathl. C. Peabody, 
1859. This is an interesting story written by Miss Elizabeth P. Peabody. 



70 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

ous, warm-hearted and delicately benevolent of men. A man 
of the finest artistic taste, he was shut out from much of the 
refined society of Boston ; but his house was always open to the 
needy among his own countrymen, many of whom had their 
Sunday dinner at his hospitable table regularly. His son and 
grandson have succeeded him in his profession with equal suc- 
cess. It was a great trial to my mother, who had no knowledge 
of, or enthusiasm for Homeopathy, but was obliged to withstand 
the criticism and objection of friends and relatives, who thought 
she was risking my life in the hands of a quack, while I had 
become so attached to my helpful physician that any hint of 
change would have driven me frantic. 

My recovery was long and tedious ; the winter was one of 
great anxiety and distress to all anti-slavery people, for dis- 
sension was at its height, and ran into families and homes, 
as well as into public councils. In the spring, Mrs. Ehzabeth 
Townsend, a lady of Philadelphia with whom I had slight, 
but pleasant acquaintance, insisted upon taking me home with 
her for a visit, as she saw the low tone of my health, and 
my depression of spirits. Nothing could have been wiser or 
kinder; for several weeks, I had with her every comfort and 
luxury the heart could desire, and among other things a car- 
riage journey through the beautiful West Chester county. I 
met new and delightful society ; Dr. and Mrs. Townsend both 
belonged to old Quaker families, though they had left the 
strict communion and joined Dr. Furness' church. Dr. Town- 
send's sisters were very interesting women ; one of them was 
an invalid, almost confined to her coucli, and nearly blind, but 
her heart was full of love and joy, and the deepest sympathy 
for anti-slavery and all other reforms. A younger sister was 
her devoted nurse and attendant ; she read to her, wrote for 
her, helped her in the little fancy work that she loved to do, and 
with the keenest delight in the beauty of nature, she seemed 
to drink it in, only to pour it all out to her sister. She herself 



THE SCHOOL OF DESIGN. 71 

was full of comic wit and fun ; I remember one of her sayings, 
that she did n't like a cedar tree, for they were dead when they 
ought to be alive, and alive when they ought to be dead. 

Here I first made the acquaintance of Dr. Furness. I went 
to see him almost immediately after my arrival in Philadelphia, 
and had the pleasure of bearing to him the news that Charles 
Sumner was elected to the Senate. We had a long, sympathetic 
talk on the great subject, and when I came away he held out 
his hand and said : " Birds of a feather flock together — I shall 
come and see you." 

I heard him preach one of his noble anti-slavery sermons, 
so full of tenderness and pity that it might seem fit to melt 
" the heart of a millstone ; " but one or two men walked angrily 
out of the church. He very narrowly escaped losing his pulpit ; 
but a few faithful ones clung to him devotedly. His study of 
the life of Jesus was the work of his heart and poetic imagina- 
tion both. One morning he came to see me. I was alone. 
After a call of a reasonable length he put on his hat and took 
his cane to go, when something recalled to him the story of 
Lazarus. He began picturing out the whole scene, till it was 
as vivid before my eyes as the daylight around us, and for an 
hour or more we were talking with Jesus and his friends, and 
entering into the heart and life of Him who was as near and 
present to him as his own family. 

I also met Lucretia Mott. I heard her in Quaker meetings, 
and visited her in her own home, where she shed an atmosphere 
of peace and life around her, which made every one feel at home 
and content. 

Another, very different, person gave me a great deal of interest 
and pleasure : Dr. William Elder. He was a man of great gifts, 
very eloquent in public speech, and entertaining in conversation, 
but erratic and unreliable ; he wavered in his political connec- 
tions, and never accomplished the work which seemed possible 
to him. 



72 REMINISCENCKS OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

But one of the most interesting results of my Philadelphia 
residence came from visiting the School of Design, for women, 
in company with Dr. Flagg, of Boston. This school was then 
new, and under the charge of Mrs. Hill, a woman admirably 
fitted for the place, both by her own force of character aijd 
the training of her father, himself an accomplished draughtsman. 

We were so much interested in the school that we conceived 
the desire to establish a similar one in Boston, and on our return 
found Dr. Harriot K. Hunt and others very ready to accept the 
idea, and we began talking of it to others. At this juncture, as 
we were looking out for a possible teacher, an English gentle- 
man arrived, who posed as a Unitarian martyr, with letters of 
introduction to the most distinguished Unitarians in Boston. 
He had been educated at tlie Soutli Kensington School, and re- 
fused employment because he could not conform to the National 
Church. It seemed a providential opportunity, and many 
influential people were ready to assist in starting the school and 

giving him employment. At the same time, Mr. S G. 

"W , agent of l^aring Bros., a rare man, who combined high 

financial ability and the truest sense of honor and integrity 
with fine artistic ability, saw the need for improved design for 
our manufactures, and secured for tlie school the countenance 
and pecuniary assistance of several of the leading manufacturing 
firms in the State. All seemed to smooth the way for opening 
the school ; a committee was formed, which at that time con- 
sisted of Dr. Flagg, President, John T. Sargent, Anna Q. T. 
Parsons, Harriot K. Hunt, Ednah D. Littlehale, Secretary, and 
Samuel G. Ward, Treasurer. 

We had indeed secured a most remarkable man for our 
teacher ; such a compound of plausibility, superficial fascination, 
vanity, conceit, ignorance, and impudence it would be hard to 
discover in a well-dressed Englishman. At some meetings held, 
a witty gentleman described his manner of speaking, as if he were 
" uttering a confidential prayer." He deceived the very elect. 



THE SCHOOL OF DESIGN. 73 

We had a room in Warren Street Chapel, but afterwards re- 
moved to a very commodious hall in one of the new buildings 
in Summer Street, and began to advertise for pupils. Young 
women applied in large numbers, many of them full of zeal and 
talent, and most eager to find a new and agreeable way of earn- 
ing a living. But they were appalled at the idea that they must 
give six months for training, and we had to argue with them as 
to the length of time required in fitting for other professions. 

The teacher had been trained at the South Kensington School, 
and he began at once with its methods of linear drawing, the 
combination of angles, lines, etc. This he understood, and he 
had the power of making it intensely interesting and captivating 
to his pupils, who zealously lal)ored day after day, and week 
after week in the same direction. His powers of personal 
fascination held many of them enchained to him, and he lavished 
promises with all the generosity and unscrupulousness of Caleb 
Balderstone at Wolf's Craig, and with as little power or purpose 
of fulfilment. In six months every one of them could be earn- 
ing $500 or $600 a year by designing, if they would only 
follow his directions. I remember one poor girl, who had 
to follow the strictest economy to come to the school, looked 
forward to a heaven of hope, when she mijiht sell her design 
and get a " nine-penny " beefsteak dinner at some restaurant she 
had found. 

The committee had engaged him distinctly for his whole 
time; but he soon began delivering lectures about the country 
on his own account, and thought the committee very unreason- 
able when they objected to his arriving in school at a late hour 
iu the forenoon, instead of being in his place at nine o'clock. 
Tiie committee began to find his criticisms very shallow, and 
often ridiculous, and they thought however valuable as elemen- 
tary training drawing straight lines together might be, it was 
not all that would be needed for an accomplished designer ; 
and they proposed more progressive work. But they soon found 



74 KEMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

the limits of their accomplished teacher. He could not lay a 
flat tint in india ink, nor draw a grape-leaf, nor do anything 
beyond the strict limits of the system. He did exhibit some 

attempts at oil painting to Mr. W , who urged him to keep 

them out of sight for the sake of the reputation of the school. 

Mrs. Hill, head of the Philadelphia school, once visited the 
school, and said she had never seen a class so well trained in 
linear drawing. And no wonder — for five or six hours of each 
day, for six months, the pupils had done nothing else. The first 
class who entered were mostly girls who were eager for self-sup- 
port ; there M^as abundant talent among them, and they were 

stimulated to the utmost degree by Mr. Wh 's promises. 

But the second class contained several pupils of a rather differ- 
ent position, who yet had a desire to obtain some means of 
earning, as a future need. Among them were some intimate 
friends of mine, such as Abby W. May, Augusta R Curtis, etc. 
They had a very keen sense of humor, and soon saw through the 
thin veneering of Mr. "Wh 's follies. My position as Secre- 
tary, of course, made it improper for me to join in their fun ; 
but it was pretty hard work sometimes to keep from laughing 
at the stories they brought me. The jests of this class only 
intensified the admiration of the first class, who became so 
excited that they could hardly speak civilly to the committee. 
I said of one of them, that " I felt as if she threw a hatchet 
at me every time I spoke to her." The committee remonstrated 

with Mr. Wh on his unpunctuality, and taking his time for 

other purposes, which so incensed him that he made a public 
speech to the school, in which he said the committee " were 
trying to harness his brain ; " comparing them to the Emperor of 
Russia, as the greatest of tyrants. This could not be allowed to 
pass, and his withdrawal was suggested, when he came down in 
the most abject manner, signing a paper which I was almost 
ashamed of anybody's accepting. 

Finally Mr, Wh decided to start a school of his own, 



THE SCHOOL OF DESIGN, 75 

promising the girls that after a few months spent with him they 
would all be able to be earning great bonanzas for themselves. 
One of the earliest pupils of the school was Miss Clark, of whom 
I have spoken in my memoir of my husband. We had made 
her an assistant teacher, and we were now anxious to know 

M'hether she wished to remain with us or to follow Mr. Wh . 

She had maintained such a perfectly calm, respectful attitude 
to all, that I did not know what her feelings might be, but 
on talking with her found that there was no doubt in her 
mind ; she had seen through the teacher as clearly as Mr. 
W himself. 

Mr. Wh started a school ; but it was abandoned at the end 

of a few months. As soon as he was left alone he fully demon- 
strated his shallowness and incompetency. A fine youn» 
artist, Mr. Albert Bellows, took charge of our school, and we 
re-opened in October. Many of the first class came back, and I 
never saw a set of more mortified and disappointed faces than 
they presented. 

Our great difficulty in conducting the school was in finding a 
teacher who had practical knowledge of designing for manu- 
facturers. We found occupation for a few pupils in carpets and 
wall-paper designing, etc. Mr. Bellows wished to devote him- 
self to his art, and was succeeded by Mr. Tuckerman. At that 
time I had married and gone to Europe, and had resigned my 
position in the school. 

At one time we had a most delightful committee, having in 
addition to the original members, James Eussell Lowell, Charles 
E. Norton, Abby W. May, and Julia Ward Howe. Our discus- 
sions were sometimes as lively and entertaining as a literary 
club. 

The school as an experiment was perhaps premature ; but it 
showed the great amount of talent among American women. 
William Furness said once, when he took charge as a teacher a 
short time, " These young women come in with such an amount 



76 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

of talent that I could tear my hair for envy ; but they don't 
know the first thing !" 

Among those who distinguished themselves in art were Miss 
Ellen Bobbins, Margaret Foley, and Mrs. Ohlenhauser, who, 
however, gave up her art to nurse the soldiers in the Eebellion. 

I knew Miss Phinney (Mrs. Ohlenhauser) at the school, 
where she was considered as the best designer in the class. I 
have regretted very much that I have lost sight of her through 
her interesting career. She died in 1902. 

I think this school was one of the failures that enriched the 
ground for success. 

At a later period the Lowell School of Design was established 
in connection with The Institute of Technology, open to both 
sexes, which has done and is doing good work. 

As fellow-workers at the School of Design I first came into 
intimate friendship with one who became ever after one of my 
dearest and closest companions. It will be in vain for me to 
attempt an adequate analysis and description of this rich and 
remarkable nature, for her sensitive delicacy shrinks from pub- 
licity and even from remarks, and only from the sense of 
duty as reporting important facts, and pregnant relations to 
deep principles would she consent to the meagre account which 
I shall dare to preserve even in this semi-private publication. 

Her mental and spiritual powers have been preserved 
throughout years of great physical suffering and mental anxiety. 
She has always maintained her faith in God and in humanity. 
I may say that through life she has looked forward with pas- 
sionate hope to the developments of society in right relations 
to labor and capital, to the harmonious life of art and usefulness, 
to peace as the result of righteousness, and to grand fulfilment 
of the association of all human hearts. She is especially 
deeply interested in the progress of woman to her rightful posi- 
tion as an independent soul, yet closely related to the great 
destiny of man and the race. She has thought deeply and 



THE SCHOOL OF DESIGN. 77 

acted wisely in every reform, and although for half a century 
incapable of active and prominent part in any cause, she has 
been the inspiring thinker, the wise counsellor, and in all prac- 
ticable ways a full helper in every good effort. 

She has fulfilled all duties to her family, and to a large circle 
not only of her friends, but to many who depend upon her sup- 
port for advice and assistance in the hard tasks of life. She 
has never failed in devotion to her high ideal. 

With the deep sensitiveness of an artistic nature, she has found 
a source of strength and blessing in the beauty of Nature, in lit- 
erature, in art, and in music ; and thus her life is rounded with 
beauty. But dearest of all has she found friendships which have 
lasted through life, and affections which have gone on through 
the immortal life. Keen wit and good-natured humor have 
helped over many a dreary period, and she takes a merry joke 
as kindly as she gives it. 

But the especial point of interest lies in the remarkable 
power of extreme sensitiveness which enables her to gather 
the impressions of a letter which she does not read, and whose 
author is unknown to her. She does not suppose this power to 
be a peculiar gift to herself alone, but regards all persons as 
capable of the same power in different degrees. How closely 
this extreme sensitiveness may be connected with her state 
of health I shall not attempt to decide, but I am confident 
that this insight into the minds of other natures is also very 
closely related to her highly intellectual powers, to an im- 
agination which rounds the whole from any part, and from a 
spiritual sympathy which, like the poet Allston, found every 
face interesting. In addition to this is a high moral nature 
and a scrupulous conscience which will never allow her to reap 
any outward advantage from the exercise of her marvellous 
powers. 

She makes no claim for certainty in her revelations, but is 
fully aware that they are subject to many conditions of mind, 



78 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

and to great limitations from the imperfection of language and 
her own state of perception. 

I have known several others who have experienced tliis 
power with more or less success, but I have never met any one 
who so clearly and distinctively represented the personality 
perceived by her. I do not myself easily accept the marvellous, 
and during this intimate acquaintance for fifty years with these 
facts I have applied to them every test that I could use, and J 
am thoroughly satisfied that through her readings she does man- 
ifest a true and deep knowledge of the nature of men and 
women with whom she has entered into relation. Sometimes 
she perceives outward and physical facts, which may be more 
immediately convincing, but the deep knowledge of the heart 
and soul as revealed by her is the most satisfactory assurance of 
her insight. 

She was first aroused to possession of this power by the 
experiments of Dr. J. R. Buchanan, whom she esteems as a 
great original thinker whose genius has not been fully under- 
derstood and accepted, but who, as she believes, will reveal 
great truths in physical and metaphysical science to the coming 
generations. 

She has thus read by psychological examinations the letters 
of many celebrated persons. Her method of reading is to take 
the letter entirelv without reading it or knowing of the writer. 
She sometimes holds it in her hands or presses it to her fore- 
head. Although she is interested in chirography, she does not 
help the reading this way. She often goes on talking with 
other people freely, and makes a remark when any word of sug- 
gestion from the letter comes to her. Sometimes she gets very 
little, but at other times she is so thoroughly possessed with 
the character that she feels she has gained a new friend. 

She readily recognizes the physical states of the writers, and 
is painfully impressed by the sympathy with sick and suffering 
people. 



Ednah P. Lltflehak. 

Photogravure by John Andiew and Son. Fnim a 
crayon portrait by Harriet Cheney. 




m. 



^.■^-*'" 



THE SCHOOL OF DESIGX. 79 

One of her most reraarbable readings was a letter by the first 
wife of Mr. Lewes. I asked for the privilege of taking Mrs. 
Lewes's letter to hei-. She knew nothing of the writer. She 
was drawn most affectionately to her, recognized her charming 
qualities, and felt that whatever faults she had manifested she 
had been conscientious and true to her own nature. The letter 
referred not at all to the troubles of her married life, but was 
written to a friend in America on her birthday, describing 
each of her children. It was a most affectionate, bright letter, 
analyzing each one of the children and delighting in their pros- 
pects in life. 

Miss P gives her own account of this peculiar phe- 
nomenon : 

" It is the simple, natural use of a natural power, and like all other 
natural powers is at its best estate when the health is best. There 
is nothing weird or marvellous about it. We are all like sensitive 
plates constantly receiving impressions, only we do not heed them — do 
not develop them, as a general rule. Perliaps they belong to those 
' unused areas of the brain ' which psychologists prate about. Dr. 
Joseph R. Buchanan, — himself both sensitive and magnetic and 
devoted to the study of the human being — first felt that the spirit- 
ual aura, which like the insensible perspiration is forever passing from 
us, was especially outflowing when brain, heart, and hand were active 
in writing. I do not know what led him at first to realize that sensi- 
tive persons, by coming in contact with this aura, could relate them- 
selves to its source. He soon found, in all places, many or few who 
were interested in experimenting with the new direction of a natural 
gift. Sensitiveness is a not uncommon peculiarity of temperament, 
varying in degree and character." 

The personal equation has always to be considered in ac- 
cepting any impression — as is shown markedly by the different 
readings from the same letter.* 

* See Appendix. 



80 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 



CHAPTER VI. 

ANTI-SLAVERY AND FREEDMEN'S WORK. 

" When such musick sweet 
Their hearts and ears did greet, 

As never was by inortall finger strook, 
Divinely warbled voice 
Answering the stringed noise, 

As all their souls in blissful rapture took : 
The air such pleasure loth to lose, 
With thousand echoes still prolongs each heav'nly close." 

Milton. 

rpHE anti-slavery work now became more and more impor- 
tant. I shall not speak of the general course of events 
which belongs to the history of the country, but especially" of 
some very remarkable women whom I knew intimately. The 
first of these was Harriet Jacobs, who was born a slave in North 
Carolina, and who suffered in her own person all the terrible 
evils of a beautiful young girl as house servant. Through in- 
credible suffering she escaped from slavery. For almost seven 
years she was concealed in a small loft where she could neither 
stand erect nor move with any freedom. She has herself told 
the history of her life, under the name of " Linda," * but the 
book is now out of print, and very scarce. She came to New 
York, and was received into the family of the poet, N. P. Willis. 
Here she was treated with every kindness, and became a trusted 
and beloved member of the family. She was a woman of great 

* Linda, the Autobiography of a Slave Woman. 



ANTI-SLAVERY AND FKEEDMEN'S WORK. 81 

refinement and sweetness of character. She was equally ac- 
cepted by Mr. Willis's first and second wives. She was Mrs. 
Willis's friend and confidante through many troubles, and she 
received from her during her own long and most painful sick- 
ness most tender care and kindness. Her book should be 
preserved as a faithful picture of what slavery was to woman. 
She filled many important and respectable positions — was 
teacher of the freedmen at one time, and at another time kept 
a boarding-house at Cambridge for Harvard students, and was 
employed as matron of the New England Women's Club. She 
died in 1899. 

Another more picturesque person was Harriet Tubman. Her 
life has also been written,* She was a slave in Maryland, but 
escaped from her master and went to Philadelphia, where she 
supported herself by cooking. She laid up money, bought a 
nice suit of clothes, and went back after her husband, who she 
found had, according to slave custom, taken another wife at his 
master's command. She then devoted herself to getting away 
all the slaves to convey them to freedom. She went down seven 
or eight times, and brought away companies of slaves. Her life 
was full of the most wonderful adventures, and she accomplished 
her work with the greatest skill and courage. Gerritt Smith 
said "she showed all the qualities of a great general." She 
could neither read nor write ; but she could tell her course by 
the stars, or, when they failed, to her — 

" The moss upon the bark 

Was pole star when the night was dark." (Emerson.) 

After the fugitive slave law was passed, she was obliged to 
take her little band to Canada, where she established a colony 
at St. Catherine's, 

I shall never forget the eloquence of her expression on the 
day when John Brown's men were executed. " It 's cla'r to 



* Haniet — The Moses of her People. By Sarah H. Biadfoid. 
6 



82 REMIiMSCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

me," she said, " that it was n't John Brown that was hung on 
that gallows — it was God in him." And again, " When I think 
of the prayers and groans I 've heard on deni plantations, an' 
'member dat God 's a prayer-hearing God, I feel dat His time is 
near." "Then you feel that 'God's time'* is near?" said I. 
" God's time is always near," she replied. " He set de Norf Star 
in de heavens ; He gave me de strength in my limbs ; He meant 
I should be free." Her first prayer was, " God make me strong 
and able to fight," — and it was answered. But she did n't 
fight for herself alone, but for all her race. Once, when on 
board a steamboat, the clerk refused to give her tickets for a 
moment, and she feared she was discovered. She said : " I sat 
down in de bow of de boat, and I said, ' Lord ! you know who 
I am, and wha'r lam, and what I want,'" and three times she 
did this ; and then the clerk touched her on the shoulder and 
said, " Here 's your tickets." 

She had a natural love for beauty and art, especially in sculpture. 
I never left her alone a little while in my room but I found 
her standing in admiration before a cast or a picture, and she 
was overwhelmed with delight at the present of a little statue. 
She said she had visions of tliese things when in the woods, and 
she saw all the ladies she afterward met, holding out their hands 
to her to come across the line into freedom. Her biographer 
dwells much on her spiritual perception and her faith in the 
immediate help of the Lord. These were consistent with the 
greatest practical sense. The native power of mind and imag- 
ination, not developing by the usual means of education, became 
so keen and perfect that they acted in the way of intuition, 
which may be a kind of prophecy. She is now, in her old age, 
living at Auburn, taking care of all the old colored people that 
come in her way. In 1899 she was baptized in the Baptist 
church, for the first time. She was in Boston about two years 

* "God's time" meant Emancipation. 



ANTI-SLAVERY AND FREEDMEN'S WORK. 83 

ago, at a meeting where she attracted a great deal of attention 
by her earnestness and originality.* 

In 1861 the war began, and every other interest was swal- 
lowed up in it ; even non-resistant principles gave way before 
it. I believe Samuel J. May was the only person who fully 
maintained them. It was a new sight in Boston to see a regi- 
ment mustering on the Common on Sunday morning, while the 
chimes rang out from Arlington Street steeple " Joy to the 
world — the Lord is come." I had no near friends in the army, 
but I shared in all the anxiety during the terrible defeats of the 
first years of the war. But when at last it was decided to enlist 
the colored men in the regiments, I took a more active part. I 
was secretary of a committee to give such comforts as were 
not furnished by the government to the regiment under Colonel 
Shaw's command. The troops were encamped at Readville for 
drill, and we sent them various helps, such as stoves, and, al- 
though with some reluctance, we added tobacco, thinking that as 
its use had become a second nature, it was hard to refuse it at such 
a time. I went out occasionally to see the troops, and I shall 
never forget the picture of the young colonel in his fair beauty 
which seemed almost angelic, as his clear, sweet voice rang out 
over the plain. It could be distinctly heard, although evidently 
not raised. We furnished a flag to the regiment, on which was 
David Scott's picture of a Christian Warrior, which Colonel 
Shaw himself approved. I went out to see the bestowal of the 
flags, of which four were given. The Freednien's Society sent 
out teachers to the men at Readville. I accompanied them. It 
was a most interesting work. The men were of every grade of 
intelligence, but were all eager to learn. As we had but little 
time, we tried to teach them to read the New Testament, in 
which they had great delight. I said : " When you are in camp 



* Tlie romantic story of William and Ellen Crafts was well known to me, but 
Miss Child has recorded it well iu " The Freedmen's Book." 



84 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

won't you like to meet together and read and sing your hymns?" 
*•' We always do," was the reply. They were immensely im- 
pressed by the ladies who came through storm and rain to 
teach them, and showed their reverence and respect in every 
way. " Won't you take my India rubber coat ? " said one of 
them to me in a driving storm — -"it's new, ma'am; I've never 
worn it." But they were keen observers, too, and mocked 
heartily at a pompous English captain who was appointed to 
drill them — but who held them in extreme contempt. 

A little after, the regiment passed through Jamaica Plain, and 
we went down to the station to see it, and cheered ourselves 
hoarse as they passed. Then we went into Boston, and from a 
window in Tremout Street saw the passage of the regiment. I 
shall never forget the whole impression of the scene ; and as the 
heroic mother looked on her fair-haired boy thus leading this 
army of heroes, she said, " What have I done that God should 
be so good to me ? " A month from that day he died at the 
head of his troop, and she telegraphed, " Lay him where he fell, 
with his men around him." I afterwards saw the brave ser- 
geant who held up the colors after he was wounded and fell, 
and he said of Colonel Shaw : " We would have followed him 
anywhere — we knew he only meant our good." His worthy 
monument is set up opposite the State House. Every face of 
the troop that surrounds him is the face of a hero, and they will 
speak through all coming times for justice and right to the 
negro. 

One of the most beautiful days I remember was when the 
troops returned to be mustered out after the war was over, I 
went to one of the islands in the harbor to see again the men of 
my class. It was a glorious winter day, with the bright, white 
snow covering all the island. I called over the names, and the 
response " Present " was made and a glad greeting followed, or 
a tribute of respect to those who had met a soldier's death — 
but very deep and sad were the groans for the few who had 



ANTI-SLAVERY AND FREEDMEN's WORK. 85 

deserted. This regiment, the Fifth Cavalry, never went into 
battle. 

It was my privilege to enter into the great work of educating 
the freedmen of that day. I owe a debt of gratitude to Hannah 
Stevenson, who called me to her side to aid in this great cause, 
and upon her resignation I became Secretary of the Teachers' 
Committee. It was a work full of the most profound interest, 
and gave me an intimate acquaintance, not only with the people 
who were just escaping from slavery, but with the noble band 
of workers who so unselfishly devoted themselves to the cause. 
I did not go into the schools myself as teacher, but was engaged 
here in organizing and arranging them. 

The eagerness of the teachers who flocked to the work made 
it very liard to refuse any of them. I remember one lady who 
said she " had come for ten years, and we refused her because she 
was too young ; " she was indeed one of those people who never 
grow old. On our committee were Mr. Edward Hooper, Treas- 
urer, Miss Abby W. May, Mr. William C. Gannett, Miss Han- 
nah Stevenson, Mrs. Ellen Gurney, Mrs. Jonathan Lane, Mr. 
John Parkman, and above all, Miss Lucretia Crocker. It was 
indeed a pleasure to work with such people, and our weekly 
meetings at the Studio Building were full of the warmest inter- 
est, and wit and pathos were equally abundant in the stories of 
our teachers. 

We had one delightful occasion every year, when the teachers 
returned from their work. They were eager to see the people 
who had befriended them, and the societies who each supported 
one or more teachers were desirous to meet them ; so we took a 
hall and invited all to meet at a freedmen's reunion. The 
teachers were hungry to hear some good speaking, after their 
dearth at the South, while the hotne people were equally anx- 
ious to hear the account of their work. Mr. Garrison some- 
times presided, but Mr. Higginson was the usual chairman, and 
his bright sallies of introduction delighted the teachers, who had 



86 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

heard nothing but untutored colored ministers for so long a 
time. That everybody might recognize the teachers, they were 
called to the platform one by one, and named to the audience, 
and presented with a bouquet by a trio of little girls, Eva 
Channing, Eleanor May, and my own Margaret. I shall never 
forget the beaming look with which Mr. Higginson gave the 
little gifts to his young aids, and the delight with which the 
teachers received them, and the smiles of the young girls. A 
simple banquet of ice-cream and cake was not unwelcome after 
their somewhat restricted diet in the South. I remember a 
bright young negro teacher from Maryland, whose school we felt 
obliged to give up, who said : " Mrs. Cheney said she found it 
almost impossible to give up any school which she had visited 
in the South, and the only reason our school was given up 
was because Mrs. Cheney had not visited it." I went several 
times to the South to visit the schools ; on the first occasion 
Miss May and I were delegates to a convention in Baltimore to 
elect a president for the united societies. We were always 
uniting societies and changing constitutions, and half the time 
did not know what our real title was. It was a good deal of a 
puzzle to our entertainers, who were, by the way, a most admir- 
able set of men, but had not yet outgrown all their prejudices, 
to have two women and a colored brother on the list of dele- 
gates. The first evening there was a public meeting at the 
large theatre, and the colored brother, a Methodist bishop in 
high standing, was treated with great respect, and invited to 
make a prayer, and the ladies were also well received, although 
not asked to speak. But on the following afternoon, after the 
business meeting, a banquet was to conclude the exercises, and 
here the dilemma was felt, — what was to be done with two 
ladies at a gentlemen's banquet, and still worse, how could a 
colored man, although good enough to address the Almighty, sit 
down at a table with white men ? The difficulty was solved in 
the case of the ladies by an invitation to tea from Mrs. Ware ; 



ANTI-SLAVERY AND FKEEDMEN's WORK. 87 

but I fear the poor bishop was left out in the cold altogether, — 
I know he was not at the supper. The meeting was long, and 
the discussions warm, and tea-time was near, and we had not 
adjourned. We felt that Mrs. Ware would be awaiting us and 
proposed to leave the meeting, but were told that we represented 
New England, of which there was some jealousy, and it would 
be taken very ill if we left. Delighted to be of so much con- 
sequence we assented and remained, and elected Governor 
Chase president, and at nine o'clock we separated. It was rain- 
ing very hard, but a carriage was procured for us, and the gen- 
tlemen went on their way to their banquet. It was so late that 
I thought it not worth while to go to Mrs. Ware's, where Miss 
May was staying, and sending my compliments by her, I went 
home. My hostess, supposing me to be at Mrs. Ware's, had 
gone to a wedding. I asked the servant to give me a glass of 
water and a cracker, and went supperless to bed. The next 
morning I rallied Judge Bond unmercifully on Southern hospi- 
tality, which I had heard so much praised, and he told me, to 
comfort me, that the " dinner did n't go off well at all ; the 
grace was so long that it took away all appetite for the meat 
that came after." When I spoke of the exclusion of the col- 
ored bishop, they excused themselves on the ground that one of 
the regulations of the club at which the dinner was held was 
that no colored person should be admitted. Judge Bond, Mr. 
Israel, John Graham, Eev. John Ware, and others of the same 
stamp, started a society for educating the negroes in Maryland, 
and asked our co-operation in the work. When they sent out a 
circular appealing to the churches to join in this " Christian work," 
the Jews were the first, and, I think, save possibly the Unita- 
rians, the only ones to respond, and hoped to be allowed to help, 
although not Christians. They had an excellent school in Bal- 
timore, and in many of the country towns, and were unfailing 
friends of the negroes. 

It is worthy of note that when the American Association of 



88 KEMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

Women went to Baltimore several years later, the same circle of 
friends received them most kindly, and did a great deal to fur- 
ther their work. 

I think it was at this same time that I made my first unex- 
pected experiment in speaking in public. Judge Bond had in- 
vited all the colored people to their largest church in Baltimore 
to meet the delegates. It was crowded full. After several others 
had spoken, Judge Bond, who was presiding, said : " Now which 
do you wish to hear next, a gentleman or lady ? " Of course the 
chivalrous audience immediately shouted, " A lady ! " Then he 
turned to me and said, " Mrs. Cheney, will you please address the 
meeting ? " I was too much interested to refuse, and stepped 
forward and said — I know not what ; but my heart was full of 
sympathy, and theirs of response, and I have no doubt they 
applauded as heartily as if I had given them the wisdom of 
Solomon. In fact, the colored audiences were the easiest of all 
people to speak to. They felt the sympathy that their hearts 
craved, and at once responded to it. A Northern audience 
seemed very cold and indifferent after I had spoken to the 
colored people, as I frequently did. 

We went on to Washington, but were prevented from going 
further South by the rains, which were so severe as to cause a 
great deal of damage. Another time I went as far as Rich- 
mond, and saw the schools at the Old Bakery, and the admi- 
rable work of Bessy Canedy and Abby Francis. 

When Eichmond was first taken, Lucy and Sarah Chase, who 
were then stationed at Norfolk, where Miss Stevenson was 
visiting them, went up to Eichmond, and opening the largest 
colored church in the city, summoned the people to come 
thither and hear about the plans for schools for them. The 
building was thronged to its utmost capacity, and the enthu- 
siasm went beyond all bounds. This was freedom indeed ! In- 
stead of being forbidden to read and write, here were friends 
coming and asking the boon of teaching them. Young and old 



ANTI-SLAVERY AND FREEDMEN'S WORK. 89 

flocked to the schools. We sent thither our best teachers, who 
saw at once the importance of selecting the most promising 
pupils and forming graded schools. The old people learned to 
give up the hope for themselves, but rejoiced that it was secured 
for their children. 

I can never do justice to the devotion and heroism of the 
teachers, and one little anecdote shows the feeling of the people 
for them. Miss Francis and others wete met by some colored 
women, who spoke to them as teachers. " How did you know 
that we were teachers ? " they said. " Honey, we knows ye 
by de heavenly light in yo' faces ! " 

A year or two later the society wished to have a thorough 
inspection of the schools which it was most important to re- 
tain, as our funds were diminishing. We had sent down one 
man as agent, but we were not satisfied with the result. Miss 
Crocker and I offered to go if our expenses were paid. I 
decided to take my young daughter with me, then about 
thirteen years old. It was the most memorable journey of my 
life. Whenever practicable, we stayed at the teachers' homes, and 
thus became acquainted fully with their lives and work. We 
sailed directly for Savannah. We stayed at the hotel there, and 
found the spirit very bitter towards Northern people. We 
carried a package from a lady in the North to a lady to whom 
she had been very kind. It was necessary that the latter 
should receive the package in person. She called upon us at 
the hotel ; but her courtesy extended no further. She seemed 
only anxious to get away with her package, and did n't even 
advise us as to the pleasant walks in the city. We left at night 
for Columbus, where we had a fine school. It was in April, and 
we had left deep snow at liome, and oh ! how beautiful the 
hedges of Cherokee Eoses appeared in bloom. This school, 
which was of our first grade, w^as taught by two teachers, Miss 
Caroline Alfred and Miss Lee, ladies of great refinement, and 
here we had an opportunity of seeing a little of Southern life. 



90 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY, 

The postmaster, Colonel Hogan, was disposed to be very polite 
to us, as he was of course a Uniou man and a Eepublican, and 
he had the idea that we had great influence at Washincrton and 
could further his political aspirations for Oftice. Although an 
ignorant man, he was intelligent, and with the help of his son, I 
have no doubt made a very good postmaster. He came to us, 
like Nicodemus, by night, not wishing it to be known. He was 
eloquent upon his sufferings for the Union, and told how his 
daughter was ostracized from all society. Miss Ciocker said a 
little maliciously she " must find our teachers a great resource, 
they are such fine, intelligent women." " Oh ! Lord bless you," 
he replied, " her own relations would n't speak to her if she had 
anything to do with them." 

We came slowly up North, visiting schools by the way, and 
spent a delightful week with Miss Botume at Ladies' Island, 
Beaufort. She lived on the old Fort plantation, and we ap- 
proached it by moonlight through a beautiful avenue of live-oak 
trees hung with the Southern moss, which made a delightful 
contrast with the green foliage. We felt as if we were entering 
a cathedral as we passed under the green shades, and they told 
us tliat good old Dr. Gannett spontaneously took off his hat in 
reverence as he entered them. This was the same plantation 
which Nehemiah Adams visited when he painted his " South 
Side View of Slavery," and the beautiful patriarchal life which he 
saw there ; but the negroes said that the master had been one 
of the hardest and most cruel masters in the South. Glad 
enough they were to exchange his control for the wise, kind care 
of Miss Botume, who for more than forty years (1900) has been 
their teacher and their friend. The island had been stripped of 
everything, and the only beast of burden on it when we were 
there, was poor little " Button " who took us around the 
island and to the boat.* AVe also visited Miss Towne's school, 

* First Days among the Contrabands, By Elizabeth Hyde Botume. Lee 
& Shepard, 1893. 



ANTI-SLAVERY AND FREEDMEN'S WORK. 91 

on St. Helena, one of the best schools. It was carried on by her 
own means. 

Our journey was attended with many curious incidents ; 
the colored people all turned out to meet us when we arrived, 
the children begging for something to "tote," and our baggage 
was carried off piecemeal, by we knew not whom ; but it 
always appeared at our destination. When we went away 
the same crowd attended us to tlie station, bringing us fre- 
quently luncheon in a paper bag, such as sweet-potato pie, or a 
plate of honey, or other things convenient to carry ! 

On one occasion we went to a boarding-house to which we 
were recommended by a Bureau officer who boarded there. At 
this place we had two teachers who were very light-colored men, 
who were born free, and had a fairly good education. One of 
them was then in the legislature ; the other was, I think, post- 
master. When we arrived in the town one of them met us at 

the station. Mr. W , the Bureau officer, was with us ; but 

there M'as trouble about our baggage, which had gone astray, and 
he forgot to introduce us. The teacher looked so nearly white 
that we did not dare to address him as a teacher, as it would 
have been a mortal insult if he had been a white man. He 
looked rather grieved at the omission, until Mr. W re- 
covered his senses and introduced Mr. Haynes to us. He then 
walked along with us, talking of the school, etc., and when 
we arrived at the house Miss Crocker innocently said, " Won't 
you walk in?" — and he refused. She urged him, saying, "I 
want to talk about the exhibition to-morrow." He then came in, 
and sat perhaps a quarter of an hour, talking about the schools. 

Soon after the landlady came and told Mr. W' that she 

had n't any room for him ; but we said that we could give up 
one of our rooms, as there were two beds in one room, and we 
could sleep together. She then informed us tliat they had 
typhoid fever in the house, — not a very comfortable thing to 
know ; but as we had no other place to stay in, we concluded to 



92 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

brave the danger. We told lier on retiring that we should like 
breakfast at eight o'clock. The next morning before seven 
o'clock, the girl came in and informed us that breakfast was 
ready. We had not begun to dress, and told her that we could 
not possibly be ready in less than three quarters of an hour. 
When we M^ent down about eight we were kept waiting some time, 
and then shown into a room where one man was sitting at the 
table eating his breakfast. He immediately got up in an angry 
manner and left. We sat down and ate our breakfast, which I 
must say was a very nice one. I was alone in my room soon 

after, when Mr. W came, in a state of great excitement, to 

know if we could pack up and leave immediately. He said the 
landlady had ordered us out of the house ; that her boarders 
had all threatened to leave if we remained, because we " had a 
yellow man sit down in the house." I told him we could 
leave perfectly well ; we could go over to the school, and go 
directly from the school to the station, but charged him on no 
account to let the young men know what had occurred. When 
Miss Crocker came up I told her, and we consulted about the 
matter. We concluded that we could not let it pass without an 
explanation, and we sent for the landlady to come up and see 
us. When she appeared, we addressed her in the most polite 
terms, and told her that we had no intention of giving her 
offence ; that at home when a gentleman escorted us home we 
always invited him to come in, and had no idea that it would be 
any different there. It was no inconvenience for us to leave, as 
we could go directly from the school to the station. The poor 
woman was evidently relieved at being treated with such mild- 
ness when she expected reproach, and then opened her heart to 
us. She said " she hadn't eaten nor slept since we had been in 
the house ; that she was dependent on her boarders, who all threat- 
ened to leave if we stayed." (There was n't the slightest danger 
of their leaving, as there was no other place in town.) We went 
over to the school, where we had a very interesting exhibition ; 



li 



ANTI-SLAVERY AND FREEDMEN'S WORK. 93 

but Mr. W was too angry to keep the secret, and he 

told Mr. Haynes, the teacher, Mr. Haynes was excessively 
angry, and it showed itself in the most marked attention to us 
in every way. When the school was finally dismissed, the entire 
negro population of the town, fathers, mothers, and children, 
all escorted us to the station. I shall never forget my amuse- 
ment. Miss Crocker, a very tall, graceful woman, headed the 
procession with Mr. Haynes. His brother, a very elegant man, 

escorted me, and Mr. W followed with Margaret. When 

we went to the boarding-house, Mr. Haynes chose very quiet 
streets for us to go through. But now we marched through the 
principal streets of the town, like a conquering army ; for the 
men retreated into their stores, and the women peeped out 
through the shutters at the unwonted sight. So we shook off 
the dust from our feet as we left the tow^n,aud Margaret exulted, 
childlike, that now she would have something to write home 
about. 

]\Ir. W , an agent of the Bureau, accompanied us oc- 
casionally. He was a pompous, empty man, full of his own im- 
portance, and with a sharp eye for his own interest. He was a 
specimen of the class of men who got positions in the Bureau 
and did not make it popular. He was, however, elected to 
Congress, from which he was finally expelled for selling West 
Point cadetships. We had been visiting a school of great in- 
terest, where we found an old blind man, to whom we had sent a 
part of the Bible in raised letters, and for the first time he felt 
that he too could learn to read. Miss Crocker gave him a 
lesson, and when she explained to him the meaning of the first 
verses of Luke, his delight at finding that it was nothing but 
plain common-sense was wonderful to see. It was a pretty con- 
trast to see the difference between the fair-haired accomplished 
teacher, bending so earnestly over the page, and the gray-haired 
old scholar, drinking in her every word with delight. As we 
left for the station the whole dusky crowd followed, breathing 



94 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

all manner of blessings upon us, till at last one old woman called 
out "good-bye," and finally "good-bye, brother Whittemore, — 
keep tlie bellows blowing!" The parting injunction was so 
appropriate that we could with difficulty restrain our laughter. 
These people are shrewd observers. 

We stayed a week at Charlottesville, Virginia; the people 
seemed very much touched at my bringing my daughter with 
me. She was very much delighted, and entered into all their 
feelings, and was a decided belle among them. At Charlottes- 
ville the young men serenaded her by night, and brought her 
little geraniums in pots. We visited Monticello, the house 
of Jefferson, and saw the curious instances of bad taste in the 
home of that remarkable man. We did not find that he bore a 
very good name among those who remembered him ; he was 
said to have been a hard master. 

In one of the schools the teacher had employed a young girl 
as assistant teacher; she had been a favorite house slave, and 
was just old enough to know what might have been her fate, 
when emancipation came. She was just married to the young 
man of her choice, and they had gone to house-keeping in their 
own simple way. Everything in the house was of the husband's 
making, as he was a carpenter, and slie had more pride and joy 
in a simple table or chair that he had made for her, and which 
was all their own, than in the most costly furniture that she 
could have bought. In the school exercises she read Whittier's 
beautiful poem, " We 're Free on Carolina's Shore," with such 
pathos and feeling that we were entirely broken down. We were 
frequently prayed for in the prayer-meetings, and I remember 
one prayer in which, after giving thanks for "the sisters who 
had come from 'way over the seas," they prayed for a very partic- 
ular blessing upon de Committee, " and may dey be very safely 
returned to their 'speckly 'bode an' liabitation." 

There is a great difference in the physical characteristics 
among the negroes, and I have never seen finer types of manly 



ANTI-SLAVERY AND FREEDMEN'S WORK. 95 

beauty than is common among them. At a meeting in Ealeigh, 
owing to the crowd, the young men stood around the wall, and I 
was amazed at their fine, stalwart beauty. Such a race is not one 
that can be permanently kept down. They had probably been 
in the army and gained a soldierly bearing. One teacher 
who had been a soldier governed his school by strict military 
drill, ordering them to " present books " — to " salute the 
teacher," etc. It was very funny, but not a bad training in 
manners. 

We frequently spoke to the people at their various meetings, 
and the audiences listened with intense delight, whether they 
understood us or not. They always responded to the broadest, 
freest views of religion that we could offer, though we never 
directly antagonized them. At Charlottesville we had a teacher 
who was very radical, and not always discreet, so that although 
personally very popular with her scholars, she excited some 
opposition in the town. When we went there a revival was go- 
ing on, and the ministers objected to the children's going to 
school because they said it prevented them from getting reli- 
gion. They described the process of getting religion as " She fell 
down, and had to be toted home." The children refused to sing 
the patriotic songs in scliool, saying it was wicked to sing 
anything but h3^mns. We called a meeting of all tlie children, 
their parents, etc., in town, taking especial care to invite the 
ministers, one of whom had most opposed the work. We then 
addressed them with no reference to the troubles. I took my 
text, " Serve God with all your mind and soul and heart and 
strength," and then proceeded to show them that to serve God 
with the mind was to understand Him, and to possess the con- 
trol of the mind, and to be able to use it wisely and well, and that 
was the object of education, and that was what they were there 
for. Miss Crocker followed in a similar train of thought, and 
when she sat down, the minister rose and commended this 
doctrine of truth they had heard, and urged them to follow it, to 



96 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

come to school diligently, and pursue their studies in the right 
spirit. I received on this occasion the best compliment I ever had 
in my life. I chanced to sit down by a young colored man of very 
humble and modest appearance, who had been made an assistant 
teacher in the school. He turned to me, and said: "You've 
helped me." In the religious instruction of the negroes, while 
there is a great deal of superstition and error to be done away 
with, one who meets them in the right spirit will find an 
earnest, simple faith which responds at once to the deepest 
and truest thoughts. They loved forms and shouts and camp- 
meetings ; these were their only recreation, all that saved 
them from despair, but they had, too, a deep sense of the 
constant presence of God. I remember a poor woman telling 
me how her mistress forbade her going to prayer-meeting, 
" But Lord sake ! I was praying all de time I was combing 
her hair." 

One winter I wished to have a pupil of Miss Gardner's at 
Charlottesville, who would go to school and work for me to pay 
his board. She selected a young man who belonged to a good 
free family of colored people. I went to tlie Eliot High school 
in Jamaica Plain to engage a place for him. This school was 
then (about 1870) supported by the funds left by the Apostle 
Eliot, who directed in his v^ill that Indians and negroes should 
never be excluded. When I said to Mr. Howe, the excellent 
principal, " I think you will find Eobert well prepared ; " he re- 
plied, " I shall take him whether he is prepared or not — I 've 
never had one to swear by." The colored population of Jamaica 
Plain was small and generally poor, and the children did not go 
beyond the grammar school. Eobert stood well in his class at 
the school, but returned to Virginia in the spring, as he was en- 
gaged to play the violin with his father and uncle at the 
Springs. He was very earnest for improvement, and was 
especially interested in the study of language. He was de- 
lighted when he learned the composite character of the English, 



ANTI-SLAVEKY AND FREEDMEN'S WORK. 97 

and I advised him to use good Anglo-Saxon words. I had then 
two very intelligent Irish girls, and they held frequent discus- 
sions over the propriety of his and their peculiar expressions. 
Almost every night Eobert came in with the request for " the 
loan of the dictionary," to settle their disputes. He once 
brought a letter from a friend in Eichmond in which he read 
" there have been many vicissitudes in Eichmond since you 
left." " He ought to have said ' changes,' " said Eobert. 

Eobert returned to Charlottesville, married well, and taught 
school successfully ; but he fell a victim to the prevailing malady 
of consumption. 

I cannot write the history of the noble* schools which have 
carried on the work. I visited Hampton wlien it was in its 
second year, and held in the old Barracks, and again I saw it in 
the last year of General Armstrong's noble career, when it was 
a grand sight, with its thousand pupils — noble, self-respecting, 
ambitious young men and women. 

I have visited Atlanta and Tuskegee, and many other schools, 
and I have never felt a doubt of the progress and final success 
of this race, whose destiny is very closely bound up with our 
own safety and welfare. 

Much has been said in these late times of the crimes against 
women. Our teachers went down South, young women, unpro- 
tected, living in lonely places, and I never heard of one word or 
act of disrespect from the negroes among whom their lot was 
cast. They found them generally grateful, faithful, and friendly. 
If they have become otherwise, it has been from receiving 
insults and wrongs, to which they have unfortunately responded 
in kind. 

The Freedmen's Society was finally given up, and as the re- 
constructed States estai)lished a public-school system, only a 
few of the schools still remained. I count it the most in- 
teresting and fruitful work of my life. The relation with the 

teachers was delightful, and formed a basis for enduring friend- 

7 



98 UEMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

ships. The privilege of such a journey with Miss Crocker was 
never to be forgotten. We worked afterward together in the 
Women's School Suffrage Association, and she was one of the first 
supervisors in the schools of Boston, a position which she filled 
until her death, as no one else could. 

The teachers in the Freedmen's schools deserve remembrance 
as true martyrs to the cause, for they did faithful and exhausting 
service with very slight rewards, except in the consciousness of 
the good they accomplished. 

After ten or twelve years of service the teachers returned to 
the North to find their places filled by others and new methods 
and requirements demanded for which they were unprepared. 

I would like to name many in grateful remembrance but I 
cannot do justice to all. Most prominent in my memory are 
Bessy Canedy, a teacher without peer, who made the Normal 
School at Eichmond ; Anna Gardner, who was an inspiring 
influence at Charlottesville; Caroline Alfred, whose beautiful 
life was among the most hostile opponents of her noble cause ; 
and Elizabeth Hyde Botume, who was indeed a Mother in 
Israel. 

Peace be to them all ! 



Margaret S. Cheney. 

Photogravure by John Andrew and Son. — Photographed 
from a portrait by Geo. Fuller, 1883. 



TKANSCENDENTALISM AND THEODORE PARKER. 99 



CHAPTER VIT. 

TRANSCENDENTALISM AND THEODORE PARKER. 

"Nor deem he lived unto himself alone; 
His was the public spirit of his sire ; 
And in those eyes, soft with domestic fire, 
A quenchless light of fiercer temper shone 
What time about the world our shame was blown 
On every wind ; his soul would not conspire 
With selfish men to soothe the mob's desire, 
Veiling with garlands Moloch's bloody stone ; 
The high-bred instincts of a better day 
Ruled in his blood ; when to be a citizen 
Rang Roman yet, and a Free People's sway 
Was not the exchequer of impoverished men. 
Nor statesmanship with loaded votes to play. 
Nor public office a tramps' boosing-ken." 

Lowell. 

■pROM about 1840 to 1850 I may call the period when I 
became interested in Transcendentalism, and especially in 
Margaret Fuller and Emerson. I was a mere schoolgirl wlien 
I first began to hear about this new faith and its apoltles, and 
had the usual unreasoning prejudice against them. But it was 
soon dispelled. I think that my first knowledge of Emerson 
was at a lecture before the society « for the diffusion of knowl- 
edge," which I attended with my father and motiier. I remember 
subsequently being pleased when told by a friend that Emerson 
had asked who that young lady was who listened to him so 
attentively. I did listen to him, and though I had then never 
spoken with him, I used to feel as if I had told a lie if I replied 
in the negative to the frequent question "Do you know Mr. 
Emerson ? " I always felt very close to him ; but I never had 
L.ofC. 



100 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAII DOW CHENEY. 

any intimacy with him. I never missed an opportunity of 
hearing him or reading his works. Mr. Malloy has lately 
spoken as if Emerson's poems were not appreciated at the time 
they were published. I can only say for myself and my circle 
of fi'iends that we read them with the greatest delight, often 
meeting together for the study of them. At the same time I 
may say that we had a little class for the study of Plato and of 
Dante. We sometimes varied these high studies by reading 
Clough's " Botliie of Toper na Fuosich " and Lowell's " Fables 
for Critics." Mr. Alcott sometimes joined us in our readings. 

I knew Mr. Alcott and all his family much more familiarly 
than the Emersons. His influence upon me was very powerful 
and I think very good, although I never accepted all his 
theories, and he did not quite accept me as a Transcendentalist. 
But he gave me an insight into the life and thought of the old 
philosophers,' and moreover he gave that constant sense of the 
spiritual, the supersensual life that is the most precious of all 
possessions. 

Mr. Alcott's life has been adequately written by two such 
friends and enthusiastic disciples as Mr. Frank B. Sanborn and 
Mr. Wm. T. Harris ; but I have many pleasant anecdotes, one of 
which I cannot refrain from repeating, because it is so charac- 
teristic of his spirit and because I have found it a help in many 
a perplexity. 

A lady was very much troubled by some moral occurrences 
which called for her correction, saying, " I wish I knew what I 
ought to do about it." " Perhaps," said Mr. Alcott, " you ought 
to do nothing." The lady still persisted, when Mr. Alcott quietly 
closed by saying, " Meantime there is Providence ! " 

While we greatly enjoyed Lowell's fun, and could even laugh 
good-naturedly at much of his satire, we were yet very indig- 
nant at his flippant and almost malignant treatment of Margaret 
Fuller, which evidently appeared like personal reprisal on her 
somewhat severe criticisms of his poems. He afterwards re- 



TEANSCENDENTALISM AND THEODORE PARKER. 101 

pented of this early folly, and he also made ample compensation 
by his own admirable work. 

Yet I have always felt a contradiction in his nature. His 
generous and unfaltering devotion to Liberty, and his great 
services to the Anti-Slavery cause, ennobled his whole life. 
His wit and keen observation of human nature were most 
worthily employed in the cause of the slave, and he punctured 
many false and empty sophisms by his keen satire. 

Yet there always lurked a feeling of aristocratic exclusiveness 
in his utterances, and his poems did not go deep to the heart of 
the people, like the songs of Whittier. Perhaps a certain sad- 
ness, due to a long suffering from sickness, and a constant 
struggle with hard conditions, were revealed in his poems when 
he had tried to conceal them in life. One happiness he always 
had, in the close, keen appreciation of nature. He comes to the 
heart of the bobolink and the flowers, if he does not always 
answer to human needs. 

He was a grand, rich personality, with prejudices and limita- 
tions, but with deep sincerity, and a genuine loyalty to the 
depths of his own nature. 

But an even more intimate influence came from Margaret 
Fuller. I absorbed her life and tlioughts, and to this day I 
am astonished to find how large a part of "what I am when 
I am most myself" I have derived from her. But I have 
written so fully of her in my lecture and also of the general 
influences of Transcendentalism that I will not repeat it here.* 

I think it may have been in 1842 that Theodore Parker 
preached the great ordination sermon which so startled the 
community. I was not wholly unprepared to accept his ideas. 
My father had been a parishioner of Dr. Holley, wlio was 
very liberal for his day. I remember my first reading of tlie 
sermon. I was then attending a course of Lowell lectures by 

* See Appendix. 



102 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

Professor Silliman, and as we had do reserved seats I used to 
go very early, taking this book to while away the half-hour 
of waiting. It took hold of nie like the voice of Truth itself, 
and when the lecturer began to speak I started as if called 
back to earth from another world. This sermon, whose doctrine 
is now so generally accepted, made a great impression at the 
time, and startled the old thinkers most effectually ; yet it 
spoke to the very heart of unprejudiced persons. 

It is impossible to tell all that Theodore Parker was to me. 
He threw a new light upon the life and thought of Jesus. Up 
to 1845 I had heard him only occasionally at lectures. I think 
that I must tell the story of the Thursday lecture as I knew it. 
This venerable service, which dated back to the very beginning 
of the colony, had fallen into the hands of the Unitarian Con- 
gregationalists, and the ministers of Boston and vicinity read 
the lecture in turn. It was always considered to be an occasion 
for entire frankness in speaking the whole truth, without caring 
for the prejudices and sensibilities of the congregation. When 
Mr. Parker's turn came after liis great sermon, the house was 
crowded, and he gave a clear, strong statement of his views. I 
do not know whether it was on this first occasion or the next 
that the committee in charge did not make the usual provision 
for music, and the organ was not played, and we had to make 
such harmony as we could with improvised singing by the 
con "reflation. On the next occasion James Richardson secured 
an organist and arranged a choir. This did not please the 
powers that were, and to exclude Mr. Parker from the service, 
the clergymen were invited thereafter by the pastor of the First 
Church, in which the lecture was given.* 

My first personal acquaintance with Mr. Parker was in a 
time of great sorrow. The youngest of the children, Anna 



* Mr. Parker afterward said of the Thursday lecture, " It was not killed, it did 
not die ; but it kind o' gave out. " 



TRANSCENDENTALISM AND THEODORE PARKER. 103 

Walter, had been ray special charge since the time that she 
was weaned, as my mother was quite ill at that time. She slept 
with me ; I bathed and dressed her, and tried my pet theories 
of education upon her. She was a child not only of great 
beauty of person, but of the rarest delicacy and nobleness of 
character. Ko one could be with her without admiring and 
lovin<T her. She was very bright and appreciated humor and 
fun, and very affectionate and most unwilling to hurt anybody's 
feelings. She would never say that she loved one of her sisters 
better than another. But we were very closely bound to each 
other by every tie, and when she died in my arms after only one 
day of alarming illness, life seemed to have nothing left for me. 
My sweet friend Anne Gore asked me after a few days if 
I would like to see Theodore Parker. He came to me, he 
sympathized with me, and as I told him little traits of my 
darling, I saw the tears gather in his eyes. I told him of a 
little prayer I had written for her in which I said : " May each 
day to Good be given " — and she changed it to " Love." " It 
was better," he said in his deep tones. Then he recited Mrs. 
Lowell's poem of the Alpine Sheep. He left me changed in 
mind. I felt that I could still live for her, and with her, and 
that her loving presence would go with me through life, as it 
has. It was Mr. Parker's wonderful trust that gave him such 
power to comfort and strengthen the hearts of others. It made 
his funeral services most helpful. On one occasion, at the 
funeral of a beautiful young girl, who was betrothed to a 
German of extreme radical views, he spoke as he usually did 
of the Fatherhood of God and the immortality of the soul as 
"the irreat truths on which we can rest in the darkest times 
of trial." The young German sceptic was deeply moved, and 
said afterward, " Mr. Parker did not speak as if he thought it, 
but as if he knew it." I remember well another occasion 
when an old friend of my mother had lost a son, who from 
mental deficiency had seemed of little value to anybody. I 



104 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

wondered what could be said of such a life. Mr. Parker spoke 
of the great truths which form the basis of all our hope, and 
then said that " No man died to his harm, that all the little 
joys of his life here had broadened out into the life of eternity." 
I shall never forget the tenderness with which he said, " Chief 
of all, he lived in the sunshine of his mother's love." One other 
occasion was equally beautiful. That excellent man. Dr. Flagg, 
in his last illness had some aberration of mind, and finally, in 
a moment of ecstasy or despair, threw himself out of the win- 
dow on to the pavement. I had lately had much friendly in- 
tercourse with him in the School of Design. My husband 
chanced to pass just as his body was raised from the pavement, 
so that we felt deeply depressed by the sad event, and I almost 
shrank from attending the service. Mr. Parker gave an account 
of the doctor's noble and beneficent life, and sweet and holy 
character, and closed witli, "And then, as he grew old, the 
body became weak, the brain tottered, and he — became inmior- 
tal." All the sadness was swept away, and we only thought of 
the continuance and oneness of his life. 

When my husband died, his brothers came to ask me whom I 
would like to have at the funeral. We all of course had the 
same wish for Mr. Parker if he could come. My brother 
telegraphed, " Will you come ? " His answer was in one word 
which went straight to my heart, with the whole force of his 
nature — " Certainly." Most comforting, too, were his prayers. 
He sat for a few moments in silence, his eye passing over his 
great congregation, and in the stillness he seemed to gather up 
the life of their hearts and to pour it out to God in the fuluess 
of love and thanksgiving. I know from my own experience 
how truly he interpreted our sorrows. More than one of his 
congregation felt that his Sunday prayer sustained them through 
all the trials of the week. 

Fortunately there were those who were not content with 
the blessing to their own souls, but wished to preserve these 



lEANSOENDENTAUSM AND THEODOBE PAEKEE. 105 

prayers for others. Mr. Eufus Leightou was then a you„. and 

very sk. M stenographer, and his Mend Maflda GodcLd/oined 

,n jn the record of his utterances. They were snceessful in 

The httle book has been a precions possession to n,any ^ho 

never l.eard h.s hving voice. The late Frances Willard. whose 

heol„g,ca surroundings were so different from his, tdd me 

h.,t always lay upon her mother's table, and that thev 

found It a source of help and comfort 

I hardly know what to select fron, the thoughts and n>em- 
ones of Ins great friend that throng upon me n^w. I only t^y 
to give those personal traits which are not known to those who 
only saw Inm as the great preacher and reformer 

thnlT t'T""''" '"'"^"'^ """' "" P'-^-'^^^d. It runs 
hat.n New York, some one, after the usual American fashion, 

asked mm how he hked their city -Oh, very much" he 

repUed ; ,t .s a nue city ! » ■■ Well, don't you tlunk it is'fin 
han Boston V ■■ It is larger, certainly" .■ But," persisted the 

qnesfoner, " ,s n't it better than Boston ? " .- It is a We city 

of :;: raid:.-'"'' '"' """""^ ' ™'^^ -^ °*""- p'---' 

And well he might; for he was surrounded by a band of 
women who were glorious helpers in his work. They were no 
foonsh, sentimental maidens who worshipped and flattered him- 
but they d,d hnn brave service. I must name some of them. 

Hannah E. Stevenson became interested in his preachin- be- 
fore he came to Boston, and used to walk seven miles, o^ to 
West Loxbury, to hear him. (No electrics then.) She was a 
woman of very fine culture, and he often read his sermons to 
her and consulted her in literary mattei-s. She afterward, when 
lef alone, became an inmate of his household, and assisted him 
and h>s wrfe ,n the receptions of the parish and other social 
duties. She was warm-hearted and generous, but satirical 
and witty, with strong personal feelings. She was very 



106 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

brave iu his defence. When walking with him through Court 
Street the day when Burns the slave was carried away, a 
man threw his hand up in his face and taunted him : " You 
killed Batchelder!" — the one man killed in the mob at the 
Court House. " I suppose you know who did kill him," 
she replied. " It was Loring who killed him." Loring was 
the commissioner who had sent the man back to slavery, 
although good lawyers felt that he might have saved him, 
even on legal grounds. 

Mr. Parker's sermon on this occasion was most thrilling and 
powerful, yet his allusion to Loring was very tender and con- 
siderate. He spoke of his appointment as Judge of Probate, 
and said : " We thought of him as one with whom the widow 
and the orphan would be safe." 

It was said that on the following Saturday Mr. Loring went 
down to Faneuil Hall market to buy his Sunday dinner, and 
having selected a fine little pig for roasting (then a favorite 
meal with Bostonians), asked the price. " I could not sell to 
you, sir, for any price ; I should taste blood in the money," was 
the indignant reply. It was said that this rebuff hurt Mr. 
Loring very deeply, and indeed, his death, which occurred 
shortly afterward, was attributed to his agony of feeling at the 
loss of respect among his fellow-citizens. 

When the Twenty-Eighth Congregational Society was formed 
" to give Theodore Parker a chance to be heard in Boston," my 
sister, Mary Frances, and I were among his first parishioners, 
and soon after njother joined us and became his warm friend 
and admirer. We gave out of our small allowance of pocket- 
money five dollars a year, which now seems exceedingly small 
for such a glorious privilege ; but we w^ere faithful attendants, 
and good hearers of the Word, if not mighty doers. On the 
day of the installation we sent a bouquet of flowers for the 
desk. This was not at all customary then ; but Mr. Parker 
seemed so pleased, lightly and reverently passing his hand over 



1 



TRANSCENDENTALISM AND THEODORE PARKER. 107 

them as he drew some beautiful lesson, that we never felt a ser- 
vice complete without them. We formed a committee, who 
paid a small sum every little while to Miss Caroline Thayer, 
who bought and arranged the flowers in winter. But when 
summer came, we often devoted our Saturdays to searching for 
wild flowers, and brought them to decorate the desk. Thus 
many of the audience, confined to the city, saw the columbine 
or the laurel or pond-lily for the first time. Mr. Parker always 
took the flowers to some sick person, oftenest to the wife of our 
blessed " St. John," who was entirely crippled with the worst 
rheumatism. The faithful husband gave up business to retire on 
a moderate income, and devote himself to his family ; but he yet 
found time to do many a kind deed, and utter many a brave 
word. His true name was Manley. Occasionally on a calm 
summer Sunday, Mr. Parker and he might be seen wheeling his 
wife in her garden chair from her house to Mr. Parker's home 
in quiet Exeter Street. 

The Misses Thayer, a family of sisters, aided Mr. Parker in 
all his benevolent work ; but Miss Caroline was of especial 
value by her literary help. She was a very careful student of 
history, and when he was investigating any subject she would 
read any books he desired, and mark everything important for 
his work, thus saving him many hours of precious time. Every- 
body, in fact, liked to do such service for him. The policemen 
helped him most readily when he was preparing his sermon on 
" the perishing classes." Miss Thayer had a fine library of her 
own, and she gave it to the Boston Public Library, where it is 
placed (I think) in the room with Mr. Parker's books. 

But most precious of all was our " St. Matilda " (Goddard) who, 
like her Italian precursor, gave her all to the church, — not, in- 
deed, in money, but in service to its human members wherever 
they were found. She fulfilled the command to " serve God 
with your mind and heart and strength;" for, as we have seen, 
she was as desirous and as able to help men and women in their 



108 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

intellectual and spiritual needs as she was to relieve human 
suffering. 

I can hardly believe that at this time she was only about 
thirty years old, for she seemed to me then the same saintly, 
quaint, utterly unselfish little woman that she does now. She 
and her sister with their mother were then living in very simple 
fashion in Florence Street at the South End. She long had 
the one old-fashioned domestic, who always sat at meat with 
them, and who was treated more as a kind and helpful friend 
than as an inferior and dependant. The mother was a person 
of fine artistic taste, who did beautiful embroidery directly from 
nature, and Matilda had great feeling for beauty, although her 
life was devoted to practical interests. 

I do not know what special circumstance called her attention 
to destitute infants ; but when I first knew her she was already 
engaged in the work. She could not take them to her home, 
but when she found an infant deserted by its parents, or having 
none able to care for it, she found a boarding-place and carefully 
watched over it until it was either adopted or well provided for. 
She never gave up her watchful care until the child was of age, 
or had finished its earthly life. She was the most practical of 
housekeepers, and the most perfect of economists. She saved, 
not for herself, but for her work, and waste was utterly unlovely 
to her. " Oh ! if people would only give me their rag-bags," 
she would sometimes say. " I don't want them to give me 
what they want, only what they don't want. I can make it all 
useful." And the remnant of cotton or flannel went to line the 
jacket of some little urchin she was fitting out for a Western 
home. 

All was done, not in a cold spirit of duty, but with loving 
kindness, so tliat my husband said, on first seeing her, " She is 
the only woman I ever saw that was not a mother, wlio had the 
mother in her face." She had a brother whom I did not know 
personally, but whom I have always honored. He had become 



TRANSCENDENTALISM AND THEODORE PARKER. 109 

a rich man, and undoubtedly helped his sister greatly in the 
necessary expenses of her loving work. When he died, com- 
paratively young, he left to his sisters the sum of one hundred 
thousand dollars (then considered a fortune), entirely with- 
out restriction. His wife, a woman fully worthy of his love 
and name, concurred in this, and her own life was spent in the 
same blessed charities. 

Miss Goddard made no change in her simple style of living, 
except that she went on her errands of mercy with a carryall 
and horse and driver, enabling her with her feeble health to 
do an amount of work which she could not have done unaided. 
When she was not using the carriage it was well employed in 
taking poor invalids to ride. Her recreation was found in 
attending the best concerts and the theatre, of which she was 
very fond. She spent all her summers in town, and seldom, if 
ever, travelled ; but she had a wide acquaintance with various 
people, and her conversation was delightful. She removed to 
Newbury Street when the South End house became noisy and 
unpleasant from the growth of the city. On Mondays she 
kept open house, and many a lonely toiler found the great social 
pleasure of life in sitting down to her simple but genial table. 
But while so perfectly adjusted to tlie needs of life, each day 
was full of spiritual meaning and joy to her. She had no 
shrinking from death, but felt that she should go on to more 
and more life, and that all that had blessed her here would be 
hers in fuller measure hereafter. Now (1898), in, I think, 
her eighty-sixth year, she is still a benediction to all who 
approach her, and I thank God for the light she has been in 
my life.* 

The Twenty-Eighth Society held their services in the old Melo- 
deon, a dingy hall on Washington Street, which had once been a 
theatre, and which now was used on week-days for a variety of 

* She died in 1901. 



110 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

unclerical purposes. Mr. Parker gradually became more and more 
known, and the hall was filled entirely every Sunday. In 
order to secure seats, many people, especially young men, came 
half an hour earlier than the opening of the service, and would 
read newspapers and pamphlets to beguile the time. Some of 
the older parishioners were a little scandalized by this freedom, 
and asked Mr. Parker to request a discontinuance of it. He 
answered : " I confess that it grates upon me ; for it is not like 
the decorum of the old churches ; but when I remember how 
precious a half-hour of reading was to me when I was young, I 
cannot bear to ask any one to forego such a privilege because it 
jars upon my feelings." Mr. Parker so frequently preached upon 
the topics of the day that he often made remarks which would 
naturally elicit applause which was not then allowable in the 
churches; but the audience restrained themselves until one 
occasion, when, in the intensity of feeling, they broke through 
all sense of decorum. 

When the first fugitive slave, Shadrach, was arrested in Bos- 
ton, at the opening of the prayer Mr. Parker said, " When I came 
to you I expected to have many hard things to do ; but I never 
expected to have such a note as this to read from one of my 
parishioners." He then read the note. " Shadrach, a fugitive 
slave, in peril of his liberty, asks your prayers that he may not 
again be returned to bondage." " But," said Mr. Parker, " thank 
God he does not need our prayers ; for he is now safe, far on his 
way to freedom." (He had been rescued from the Court House 
by a company of friends.) For a moment the hush of that great 
audience was as if life liad stopped. Then came a burst of 
applause, the relief of which it is impossible to describe. It 
was like opening the doors of a dungeon. 

Many thrilling scenes accompanied his preaching, and laughter 
and tears were often very near together. When preaching on 
the subject of sin, as he spoke of the infinite power of redemp- 
tion in the human soul, and said, " We can overcome sin," a 



TRANSCENDENTALISM AND THEODORE PARKER. 11] 

voice from the gallery called out in deep tones, " I know it, I 
feel it, I am sure it is true !" 

At one time, preaching on the message of nature, Mr. Parker 
spoke of the beauties of the earth, the grass, the trees, etc., and 
of the common notion that toads could foretell the weather. 
An old lady, who walked out after the sermon with her head 
very high in the air, exclaimed : " Well ! I never heard before 
that toads were prophets, and that grass was revelations ! " 

Mr. Parker kept a careful and kindly watch over the maidens 
of his flock. One of them was very much annoyed by the 
intrusive attentions of a poor man who wished to marry an 
heiress, and who afterward proved to be insane. When Mr. 
Parker saw him approach her after the service, with the inten- 
tion of walking home with her, he would slip down the platform 
steps, take him by the buttonhole, and detain him in conversa- 
tion until she could escape. 

This poor man was the victim of all the mischievous wags of 
the time, who played upon his self-conceit and vanity by 
assuring him that this lady and others were in love with him, 
and only refused to accept his addresses because of the opposi- 
tion of their rich families. They would also arrange for him to 
give a lecture, and would fill the hall with young scamps, who 
would not suffer him to go through with a sentence, but con- 
stantly interrupted him with tumultuous shouts of applause. 
It was carried so far that the poor man actually believed himself 
a candidate for the Presidency, and I have seen him appear at 
a public meeting decorated with stars and ribbons, which he 
supposed to have been sent him by mighty personages.* 

* When Kossuth was in Boston, many of the abolitionists condemned him 
very seriously for his silence in regard to slavery, Mr. Mellen wrote him a long 
letter expressing his high disapproval. Kossuth then probably thought the 
hicfh-sounding name, George Washington Mellen, represented the first citizens 
of Boston, and he read the letter at his lecture in Faneuil Hall. When the sig- 
nature was read the shout of laughter and derision which went np from the 
amused audience staggered the eloquent orator, who could not understand the 
ridicule attached to the serious attack of the writer. 



112 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY, 

But the most annoying, and at the same time, amusing of 
persons was Abby Folsom, whom Lydia Maria Child (I believe) 
was the first to call " the flea of conventions." Certainly no flea 
was ever more alert or tormenting, or more indestructible. Her 
history should be preserved ; for she was a characteristic, abnor- 
mal expression of the time. Abby Harford was a young woman 
of Eochester, New Hampshire. She was very bright and smart, 
with a warm heart and full of zeal for good works and great 
reforms, but had an uncontrollable temper, excitable brain, and 
an irrepressible flow of speech. When Mr. Folsom took it into 
his head to marry her, he went to his employer and told him 
he was to be married, expecting his congratulations. " Whom 
are you going to marry ? " " Nabby Harford." " Then you had 
better go down to the bridge and jump into the river at once," 
was the answer. Nabby, however, was a very good wife when 
she was at home, kept the house and her husband's clothes well 
in order, and does not seem to have alienated his affections, for 
he would say, after she had been long absent, " Now, Nabby, 
why can't you stay at home ? — we would be so comfortable." 
But a country home without children was quite too narrow a 
sphere for Abby's large soul. She came to Boston and was 
deeply interested in the anti-slavery work, but not alone in 
that ; she went among the poor, doing constant deeds of kind- 
ness, rescuing the drunken woman from the very gutter, and 
taking her into her own poor rooms. Mr. Parker, Mr. Phillips, 
Charles F. Hovey, and other noted abolitionists recognized her 
noble qualities, although they suffered grievously from her 
tongue. They occasionally gave her money and sympathy and 
assistance when her furniture was put out upon the sidewalk 
for non-payment of rent, or for making a disturbance in the 
house. But she did not spare them for that. 

When Mr. Parker first began to preach at the Melodeon, she 
became a regular attendant. She would rise in the middle of 
a sermon and ask him some question not very pertinent to the 



TRANSCENDENTALISM AND THEODORE PARKER. 113 

subject. She would usually come gliding in, in some mysterious 
manner, so that you never knew where she came from uutil she 
appeared at her chosen spot. She seated herself in full view 
both of the minister and the congregation. Poor Mr. Parker 
would be fastened by her eyes, as by a basilisk, and when the 
sharp, shrill voice was uplifted, he lost, for an instant, his 
presence of mind, and uttered a quick, sharp " No ; " then he said, 
very gently, " Come to me in private— and I will answer you." 
But this was not what she wanted. After a while he prevailed 
with her so far that she promised not to interrupt until the 
service was finished ; when she would rise up and begin an ex- 
hortation to the congregation. Mr. Parker would give a signal 
to the organist to play the people out ; who would then sound 
the whole strength of the sub-bass of the organ in its loudest 
tones, and even Abby's lungs could not prevail against it. 

Mr. Parker wished to have meetings on Sunday afternoon for 
free conversation ; but wiih Abby in the field they proved im- 
possible. She was there on the first day, and began her ex- 
hortation. Mr. Parker addressed her with the utmost sweetness 
and patience, saying that he recognized her as a good woman, 
a Christian woman, who desired to do good to her fellow 
creatures, and begged her to remain quiet, and not to obstruct 
the meetings, from which they hoped so much. She had great 
respect and gratitude for Mr. Parker, and she seemed at first 
softened by his appeal ; but as she began to speak in answer, 
the blood mounted to her brain, her voice rose higher and 
shriller into almost a wild scream, and great confusion arose 
from the efforts to check her. The chairman had diiiiculty 
to decide among many who were wishing to speak, when 
Abby's shrill voice arose above everybody's, exclaiming : " Let 
Brother Hovey speak; he always speaks to the p'int." The 
" p'int" of his speeches, to her, was generally a twenty-dollar 
bill. The managers of the meeting the next Sunday stationed 
good Dr. Flint, a strong, fine-looking man, at the door, to prevent 



114 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

her coining in. But be could n't help greeting his acquaint- 
ances as they passed in, and lost sight of her for a moment, and 
she slipped in. He then went to her and said : " Now, Abby, 
you may stay if you will be quiet and not speak." When the 
meeting was opened Abby's voice immediately arose, and she said, 
." When I came in here this afternoon, a thing in the shape of a 
man came to me, and told me I might stay if I would be quiet;" 
from this text followed a tirade of words, and if I remember 
rightly, the meeting finally broke up in confusion. After the 
regular meeting closed, John M. Spear went to her and said, 
" Well, Sister Abby, you come to my meeting this evening, and 
I will let you speak." Abby again lifted up her voice, with a 
sneering laugh, " Brother Spear says he will let me speak " — as 
if anything in heaven or on earth could prevent her if she chose 
to talk ! The same difficulty occurred at the anti-slavery meet- 
ings, and even the non-resistant principles of the managers had 
to give way, and they were at last obliged to carry her out by 
force. One day Wendell Phillips and Francis Jackson carried 
her out, as children carry each other in an arm-chair. She sat 
as in triumph, and exclaimed : " I am more honored than my 
Saviour, for he was carried into Jerusalem by one ass, while I 
am borne out by two." 

She formed a close league with another original, Silas Lamson, 
who was a little more crazy than she, and had the same mania 
for disturbing meetings. Silas belonged to a good family in 
Maine, and was originally a maker of scythe-snaths. He had 
become filled with some peculiar religious notions, the outward 
sign of which was that saints should dress in white raiment and 
wear long beards (which was not then the fashion for sinners). 
He could be seen frequently about the streets of Boston, 
in this costume, and leaning upon his long, crooked scythe- 
snath made a very picturesque figure. His family were quite 
willing to take care of him, and much mortified at the course 
he took ; they paid him a regular stipend monthly, but did not 



TRANSCENDENTALISM AND THEODORE PARKER. 115 

dare give it directly, lest it should be foolishly spent; so it 
passed through the hands of a young lawyer. He had set up 
house-keeping with Abby and they came together to the young 
lawyer's office monthly, to receive the payment. He was a 
great wag, and had an abundance of fun from the interviews. 
Silas would often quarrel with Abby because she spent too 
much money on the house-keeping ; he thought it ought all 
to be reserved for the saints in white raiment. He would 
go down on Long Wharf, on the coldest Sundays, and preach 
to the people, who were amused at his strange doctrine and 
expressions. 

This was the time of Mr. Parker's richest activity, and most 
burning eloquence ; his soul was on fire with anti-slavery zeal 
and intense anxiety for the fate of the country he loved so 
much. He preached many sermons on the stirring questions of 
the time, and it was then that the most bitter opposition was 
aroused against him both by theological opponents, supporters 
of compromising politics, and even among his former brethren 
of the ministry. Prayers were offered for his overthrow, in Park 
Street Church, and it is a valuable sign of the ease with which 
false tales are propagated, that it was currently told that, " after 
a prayer had been offered that the Lord would put a hook in 
his mouth, he was struck dumb while preaching his usual 
blasphemies in the pulpit, and had never opened his mouth 
since." If such stories could be circulated and believed in his 
own time and city, what credit can we give to traditions of 
miraculous prodigies occurring in remote times and distant 
places? His preaching continued until the stormy times be- 
fore the war; but sickness had driven him away from home 
before that eventful period. He lived to shelter William Crafts 
in his own house, and witnessed the carrying away of Burns, 
a fugitive from Boston. I will not dwell upon these events, 
because his biographers have given full account of them. 
I only wish, in addition, to give my testimony that in the 



116 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

midst of all this violent agitation he was the most tender 
and devoted of pastors to his own flock, whom he loved as 
they loved him and each other. As he sat at his desk before 
the prayer, he looked around upon them and gathered up the 
thoughts of their hearts, and many a heart recognized that its 
secret griefs were known, its deepest struggles interpreted, as 
he lifted up his own heart in penitence or prayer or thanks- 
givincp to his God. 

He received letters from all parts of the country, from people 
of every age and sect, asking for advice and help, or sometimes 
remonstrating with him on his course ; they were all carefully 
and cordially answered, and often formed the basis of a life-long 
relation of oreat value. One of the most touching of these was 
from a good Quaker in a Western State. He began his letter : 
" Friend Parker, — I have read thy books," and he proceeded to 
tell how much help and comfort they had given him. The page 
was left unfinished. The next page, with a somewhat later date, 
opened: "Dear Theodore, — we have just returned from the 
funeral of our child, and our hearts turn to thee first for 
sympathy and help." The letter touched Mr. Parker deeply, and 
his whole heart went out in his answer to it. Years afterward 
in one of my Western journeys, I found the family of the Quaker, 
who cherished the name of Theodore Parker as a household 
angel ; and some of them went with me afterward on a pilgri- 
mage to his West Roxbury church, which was then partially 
destroyed by fire. 

After a meeting in the West at which I had spoken of him, a 
young girl came up to me and asked to shake hands, saying : 
" Oh ! if you knew how I have longed to see the face of one 
who had seen Theodore Parker," 

This is the Theodore Parker who is doing his work, while his 
body lies buried in Florence. 

After Mr, Parker's absence from home and after his death, the 
Music Hall was for a time filled with the old spirit, and the 



TRANSCENDENTALISM AND THEODORE PARKER. 117 

work went on at the period when we felt that we needed him 
so much, at the beginning of the Civil War, I must note some 
of the well-remembered occasions. 

Wendell Phillips often spoke with his wonted eloquence and 
power. On one occasion, when he had been severely attacked 
by the newspapers, he read for the Scripture lessons the most 
severe passages of Jesus' " Woe to the Pharisees" in bis heart- 
thrilling voice, and then closing the book he added, " If the 
' Daily Advertiser ' calls this blasphemous railing and vile abuse, 
I am not responsible." 

One time it was rumored that the Mayor refused to protect the 
meeting when there was undoubtedly preparation for a riot. 
Individuals were armed with pistols to shoot Mr. Phillips down, 
but there were a hundred policemen in the hall, while the 
audience was packed closely about tlie speaker. A chosen band 
protected Mr. Phillips to his home. I never before realized the 
spirit of excitement and intense life in such an audience. I 
have always thought that the greatest safeguard on this occasion 
was the holding of the regular service in the morning. New 
England propriety overcame the passion of the mob. 

Theodore Weld, in his youth, was thought by many to have 
equalled Wendell Phillips in his earnest eloquence as an anti- 
slavery lecturer. But he almost utterly lost his voice, from a 
severe exposure to cold, and fatigue in his work. His imposed 
silence was a severe trial, but at this juncture speech became 
an imperative necessity to him and he ventured the experi- 
ment. He came to the Music Hall, and spoke of the pres- 
ervation of the Union. It was a trumpet sound, gathering 
up his long repressed force, great in logic, strong in reasoning, 
and passionate in eloquence. Charles K. Whipple, no mean 
critic, said that his argument for the Union of the Government 
was equal to that of Daniel Webster. He spoke once again in 
a different strain, with the force and beauty of a patriotic poet, 
which Edwin P. Whipple compared to the eloquence of Choate. 



118 KEMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

I think this was his last public effort. He had spoken his word, 
and he was again forced to silence. 

Samuel J. May's plea for peace was most touching, for he 
stood as truly an opponent of slavery as any man living, and 
firmly as ever he maintained his old faith in non-resistance. 

And Samuel Johnson was not less true and noble. He had 
just returned from England, and there he saw and honored the 
unselfish and heroic action of the working-classes, who were 
starving from want of cotton, and yet who stood bravely by the 
cause of the North. He dared to tell the people, when believing 
that all England were against us, that he came to bear to us this 
noble testimony to the warm heart of the motlier nation. His 
old friend. Miss Lucy Osgood, went up to him and grasped his 
hand, saying, " God has given to you the great gift to increase, 
and not to decrease." 

When Charles Summer had received from the legislature of 
Massachusetts severe censure for the pacific removal of the 
records of Union victories from the national flag, the legislature 
revoked the censure, and his old colored friend, J. B. Smith, the 
well-known caterer, was sent to Washington to give the word to 
the dying patient. I can never forget the tone at the Sunday 
service in which Mr. Johnson said, "Massachusetts to-day re- 
joices in unspeakable thankfulness that her voice reached his 
dying ear before it was too late." 

Ah ! they were true men and brave, who have baptized our 
country forever. 



CONCORD SCHOOL OF PHILOSOPHY. 119 



CHAPTEE VIII. 

CONCORD SCHOOL OF PHILOSOPHY. 

"Naught better man can do, each day in all the seven, 
Than leave the world and self behind, and praj' to Heaven. 
Prayer is not form and show, Prayer is no emi)ty word ; 
Prayer is a thought, and thought alone in Heaven is heard ; 
Yet Prayer must grow to work, that the whole life may rise, 
Pure as a morning breath of incense, to the skies." 

FRIEDRICH RiJCKERT. 

TN 1877, Margaret and I went with my sisters and some other 
young friends to Europe, but I have little to record of the 
journey, save the deep sorrow that came to us in Kome, from 
the death of my dear sister Helen, who died of Roman fever. 

Wiiile we suffered from the usual unfeelingness of the hotel 
keepers, who are in mortal fear of a case of sickness in their 
houses, I must yet bear testimony to the extreme and constant 
courtesy of all the officials, whom we had to meet in the neces- 
sary arrangement consequent on a death, and must especially 
mention the guardian of the Protestant cemetery, who made 
everything as little trying to our feelings as possible. 

It was at an interesting period of time, for we arrived in 
Rome just after the death of the King, and I saw him laid in 
state; and soon after Pius IX. died. I visited his bier also 
and was struck with 'the changing fates of men. I had heard 
Tlieodore Parker give thanks in his own pulpit for the election 
of this pope, when he believed him to be a true lover of freedom, 
who promised great good to Italy. He lived to be execrated by 
his countrymen, as false to his promises, and an enemy to his 



120 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

country's freedom. His kingdom of Italy was shrunken to a 
voluntary prison. 

He was interred with all due honor at St. Peter's, but so 
great was the fear of tumult among the people that the Catholic 
managers requested the government to defend the church. The 
crovernment refused to send soldiers without a written order 
from tlie authorities of the Pope's command, which was accord- 
ingly sent. The soldiers entered the church with their hats on, 
and refused to take them off at the bidding of the priests. 
Their prescribed uniform was not to be changed at ecclesiastical 
order. 

The journey is memorable as the occasion of meeting one who 
has ever since been a very dear friend, Mrs. Eebecca Moore of 
London, — a woman of fine culture, the most earnest reform 
views, and the sweetest temper and disposition. She is happily 
living now, young in her old age, and full of interest in litera- 
ture, art, and reform. 

Through her I met some of the early English abolitionists. 
They were men and women of the finest stamp, and their 
mantle has descended on the present advocates of such reforms, 
as the crusade against the contagious disease acts. Mrs. Jose- 
phine Butler I remember with special interest. 

Throucjh the kindness of a friend I met some of the liberal 
leaders in London. I had the pleasure of dining with Peter 
Taylor, and there met the noble blind hero. Professor Fawcett, 
with his devoted and able wife. Having lost his eyes from an 
accident by his father's hands, he nobly accepted his life to 
prove that his career Avas not ruined, and having made the 
utmost of his education in spite of all obstacles, he became at 
last the chief postmaster of England. He died in middle age, 
and his wife has since honored his life by her useful writings on 
political economy. 

Mr. Garrison and his son were in London at the time, and it 
was very interesting to see the spirit of the old abolitionist. 



Seth IV. Cheney. 

Photogravure by John Andrew and Son. — From a 
daguerreotype by Hawes. 



\ 



CONCORD SCHOOL OF PHILOSOPHY. 121 

Mr. Taylor kindly took us to see the House of Commons ; 
where of course I could only sit in the caged gallery and look 
down upon the distinguished assembly. 

It was the morning session and a dull debate. If I remember 
it was on temperance and Sabbath-day legislation. We were 
amazed to see the English ladies present in handsome dinner 
dresses of blue silks and short sleeves. Afterwards Mr. Garrison 
spoke to a Woman Suffrage meeting, and pleaded for women's 
emancipation, and lie would begin, he said, "at just that caged 
gallery." This was in keeping with his love of securing a strik- 
ing point and leading on to the whole question. 

Among other friends I will only mention Mrs. Nichols, widow 
of Professor Nichols, the astronomer. She was not then as she 
afterwards became, blind, but in her old age she was most cheer- 
fully and usefully occupied, and she was always active in re- 
form. Her copy sent me of Professor Nichols's "Architecture 
of the Heavens," illustrated by David Scott, is one of my most 
prized possessions. 

When I returned home in 1878 I found an invitation awaitinjj 
me to give a course of lectures on Art at the Concord School of 
Philosophy in the following summer. 

I had, as I so often have before and since, the painful feeling 
tliat I owed this invitation rather to the wish to do honor to 
women by giving them an equal position than to my own in- 
dividual merits, for I felt poorly qualified for the task. I 
believ^ed, however, that it was my duty to appear as a representa- 
tive woman and do the best I could. 

This School had long been a cherished project of Mr. Alcott. 
It had no precedents to follow, and was bound by no ordinary 
rules. I think the spirit which animated it was a desire to 
awaken and diffuse in the community a more spiritual view of 
life and thought, without antagonizing the religionists on the one 
hand, or the scientists on the other. If so, has not this school 
done its part, and a large one in bringing about that drawing to- 



122 KEMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

gether of science and religion, which is to my mind the most re- 
markable feature of thought in our times ? 

Although the great natural leaders of the movement in the 
work, Alcott and Emerson, were both past tlieir prime, and fell 
out of the ranks after the first years, yet their influence was 
potent in it. Mr. Alcott gave more than one course of lectures. 
He had then attained that serenity of views which enabled him 
to look calmly at institutions which he had criticised in his 
youth, and to find in the past records of thought the seed and 
promise of the new. It has been asserted that he changed his 
religious views, but I think he never did. The early association 
with the Episcopal church was pleasant to lum, and he put up a 
memorial window in memory of his mother. But his thought 
was the same. He used the same formulas as in his early days. 
Will not a deep religious thinker take up again many rejected 
beliefs, and find in them a living truth, though he has not lost 
the sense of their partial error or narrowed interpretation which 
forced him to perhaps exaggerated protest in his youth ? For 
this service to me, for it is one, I feel indebted to Mr. Alcott, 
and still more to Mr. Harris, whose broad, comprehensive mind 
cannot give up the hold on any truth, and whose keen wisdom 
always sees its relation to the newest discovery. 

I cannot give a history of this famous School or its members, 
but I must speak of the charming social enjoyment in it. As 
we walked home from the evening session under the light of the 
moon, beneath the tall trees that shadowed our patli, one group 
or another would pass by with a few words of the intellectual 
feast which we had enjoyed together, tlms bringing us into a 
beautiful and hearty communion. 

It was a sweet, holy, blessed time for a season only, never to 
be repeated, but never to be forgotten. Many a mind opened in 
that flowering time whose fruitful seeds have been borne abroad, 
and I think the thought of our time has been largely moulded 
by the influences started there. 



CONCORD SCHOOL OF PHILOSOPHY. 123 

One of the most interesting men who spoke occasionally at 
the School of Philosopliy was David A. Wasson. He was not 
enrolled with the Transcendentalists at so early a period as 
most of those connected with the school, and came to their 
ranks through somewhat different disciplines and influences. 
Born in Maine and belonging to a genuine Orthodox family, 
he was early alienated from the prevailing doctrines, and 
thought out his religion and philosophy from his own stand- 
point and experience. But his nature was so sweet and true 
that he never thought bitterly of those who held such severe 
constraint over his early life. His account of a revival in his own 
little town gives a very true and reverent account of what such 
an experience actually brought to many who came under its in- 
fluence. In his satirical poem of " The Revival Preacher," it is 
difficult to separate the genuine belief from the false theology 
and egotistic vanity of the speaker. 

I think the best of his poems will live like the sonnet of 
Blanco' White's. He suffered much from his eyes, and finally 
became almost totally blind. 

In his will he committed to me the care of collecting and 
publishing his poems. I had just met with an accident, and in 
my hours of forced quiet, I gained communion with his deepest 
and finest moods. 

Mr. Frotliingham, in his biography, speaks of something 
wanting in this noble nature, and implies that he lacked humor 
and perception of others' needs. I acknowledge the lack, and 
yet Mr. Frothingham's view does not solve the difficulty to 
my mind. I found him sympathetic and most responsive to 
kindness. When the Women's Club sent him a purse of 
money before his European trip, he said, "It is especially 
welcome as coming across known differences of opinion." And 
at a similar occasion, when a collection was made to employ 
a hoped-for cure, his reply was, " God bless you, and all who 
value my health more than their money." 



124 KEMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY, 

Yet it is true that he did not meet the popular heart as 
Theodore Parker did. At the Twenty-Eighth society, many 
were warm admirers and friends, others complained that they 
could not understand him, but his adherents were not always 
confined to the highly educated people. I remember an intelli- 
gent mechanic and his wife who were devoted to him. My little 
girl, then eight years old, said, "Mamma, I liked Mr. Wasson ; I 
did not quite understand all he said, but I liked liim." He 
was greatly pleased with her speech. " If I have spoken to a 
child, that is something," he said. 

He was not a master of humor, although he sometimes used 
an apt illustration, as wlien he compared Mr. Lincoln to a 
ratchet wheel which, once set to the right point, held fast ; 
but at other times he pursued a figure until he ran it into the 
ground. He was apt to speak too long and weary his auditors. 

I feel that he was greater tlian we knew ; he never found 
adequate expression for the spiritual life which overflowed him. 
James F. Clarke once said, " He is the greatest thinker among 
us." In many respects he was a reactionist, and did not accept 
some of the most prized opinions of his Transcendental friends. 
He doubted of equal suffrage ; he believed in a hierarchy of the 
noble, the good, the M'ise, who were to rule by divine right. 
His objection to the suffrage for women rested more on his 
general unwillingness to increase the number of voters tlian on 
any want of faith in the highest capacity of women. His 
respect and tenderness for them held no contempt. He was not 
quite of his time, and never met the popular feeling, but by a 
circle of friends, many of whom differed heartily from his 
opinions, he was reverenced and loved with unfailing devotion. 

He was in youth full of boyish life, and in wrestling with 
some far more athletic opponent, he injured his spine so 
severely tliat he was ever after the victim of a nervous disorder, 
which at times caused him excruciating agony and often left 
him a prey to depression. Yet his wonderful buoyancy of 



CONCORD SCHOOL OF PHILOSOPHY. 125 

nature enabled liira to rise above his sufferings, and produce 
one of the most remarkable lyrics in the language, not only 
for its rapt expression of the liighest optimism, but from the 
painful circumstances under which it was written. Exquisite 
sensibility to pleasure and to suffering was the result of his 
temperament and his physical disease; after the exertion of 
preaching he often sank to a degree of sadness until he said, 
"I pity everything; I pity my child that he is born; I pity 
God that he exists." But his strong, clear mind overruled his 
emotions and kept his thought in poise. He always seemed 
to me the truest interpreter of the laws of Spirit.* 

A very remarkable woman took a large part in the Concord 
School, althougli I think slie did not often speak at a regular 
lecture. Elizabeth P. Peabody was so well known and so 
generally beloved that she won rightly the name of the " Grand- 
mother of Boston," for she had cared for and educated and 
blessed three generations of Boston's citizens. Her great intel- 
lectual powers have been often overlooked in the recognition of 
her great heart, which felt for all the homeless and helpless per- 
sons who appealed to her sympathies. She was devoted to her 
family in all times of trial, and not less true to her many and 
beloved friends, but she was not confined to these friends; her 
sympathy, not in words alone but in great deeds, flowed out 
almost without restraint to the children, to the foreigner, to 
the slave, and to the Indian. I never had the good fortune to 
be her pupil, but many have borne witness to her rare power 
as a teacher. Her essays in " The Dial " are of marked excel- 
lence by the power of her thought, by her pure English style, 
and her broad and temperate judgments. 

Withal she was the most simple-hearted and unconscious of 
beings, and stores of anecdotes are told of her absence of mind 
and of her enthusiastic doings, and her carelessness of dress 

* Wasson's Poems, edited by E. D. Cheuey. Life and Essays, by 0. B. 
Frothingham. 



120 KKMINISCKNCHS OV KUNAII DOW CllKNKY. 

iuul conviMiLiuiKilil V. 1 will only sprak of licr nMiiaikaMi) 
apponriiiu'o at llu' last leclures of tlio Concord School. Slio 
was llicn (luitc oKl aiul was (tl'tcn nnablc to keep awake durinj^' 
the lectures. As she sat on the platlbrni the audience believed 
lior to Imvo slept sweetly through the discourse, yet alter the 
lecturer ceased she would arousi^ and discuss the pr(»round 
topics presented to {\n\ School niakinj; the clearest uud most 
inij>ortant suggestions oM'ered by any one. Mr. Harris was 
('Specially struck by the richness and pertiiu>nce of her riMuarks. 
Jler latt'st enthusiasm, as well as her earliest, was in eilucalion, 
and she became an ardent apostle of the kindergarten, in which 
she personally engaged. In giving my own dear child to her 
care I did not value so much the rules of the kindergarten as the 
opportunity of leading a young girl into tlu> respei't and love of 
oni' of the noblest women 1 have known. It is the great regret of 
her many friemls that there is no adeipuite biography of her. 

1 cannot refrain from ri'cordiiig an anecdote which so far as 
1 know has never been printed. It has to mv a specially dear 
signiticance, with which I will preface the account. 

My little sister Anna was obliged occasionally to ])ass through 
a narrow passage where she once met a. rat, and was much 
frightened by it. She was hardly five years old but 1 thought 
it most important to give her courage for the little ellbrt and 
1 told her of the story 1 am about to relate. I did not tell her 
she must, go aloni>, and might easily have found some one to 
accompany her. She came back to me singing and said, " I 
went all alone," and she was never afraid afterward. 

]\Iargaret Fuller gave me the story of Waldo Emerson, who is 
so beautifully commemorated by his father in the " Threnody." 

Little Waldo went to school at (piito a distance from home, 
and on the way a French family lived. He was nmch excited 
by the strange language and was unwilling to pass by them. 
Some person therefore accompanied him to and from school. 



CONCOUD SCHOOL OF I'llILOSOI'IIY. 127 

Mr. Kinersou thou<rliL it was tiiiu! lor lii.s son to conquer liis 
foolish fours. After assuriii^r hi„i of the liarnilessness of the 
Preiich funiily, he told him that some one would tuke him to 
school that day, but nobody would cull for him, h(; must come 
home alone. 

When the school was out the little fellow felt .so much 
afraid to pass through th.j way that ha leaned on the -ate of 
the yard in helpless teai'S. 

Miss P:iizabeth Hoai- lived oj,posite, and from her wind.nv 
saw the dear little sufferer, and crossing over to him .she said, 
"Come, Wahlo, I am going down town, come along with me." 
Waldo looked up into the kindly face, then his own coun- 
tenance cleared up, and he said, " I do not think that is what 
my father wishes." He went on alone and never again found 
himself in the bondage of fear. 

One other stoiy of Mr. Emerson, told me by a dear IViend, I 
must preserve. 

Mrs. C had a colored servant whom she hud luk(;n fiom 

an almshouse, a veiy poor, honudy, seemingly degraded being, 
but she proved capable, faithful, and affectionate. 

When Mrs. C returned from the house where Mr. 

Emerson had died she .said to the girl, " Nancy, our good neigh- 
bor is gone." 

"Oh, marm," she replied, "is he gone? then he'll never cull 
me Nancy again." 

" Why, did he always say, ' Good-morning ' to you, Nancy ? " 
asked Mrs. (J . 

"Oh, yes, marm, he never came here nor met me in the street 
but he said, 'Good-morning, Nancy,' or 'How do you do, 
Nancy?'" He gave her all she asked, she received the best 
good that was possible to her. 



128 KEMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 



CHAPTER IX. 

ART. 

" It is not enough to draw forms fair and lively, 
Their conduct likewise must be beautiful ; 
A hearty holiness must crown the work, 
As a gold cross the minster dome, and show, 
Like that instonement of divinity, 
That the whole building doth belong to God." 

Festus. 

"VTATUEE made some mistake in my composition. She gave 
me a great love of Art, without any corresponding genius 
for production or talent for execution. I have ever cherished 
the greatest reverence for artists, and believed that somewhere 
in the vast possibilities of eternit}' I should receive the endow- 
ment denied me here. I have often wondered how much of 
my life-long devotion was awakened by a book which I began 
to read when I was only eight years old. It was in a series 
called, "The Pursuit of Knowledge under Difficulties." The 
subject was illustrated by the biographies of men in different 
walks of life, but in my volume the majority were artists. I 
followed their struggles with poverty and neglect until I came 
to feel that the pursuit of Art was the one great object in life 
and that all other things should give way to it. 

Prom that time to this, the life of the artist has always 
seemed the highest and truest expression of the full life of 
the soul. But the word has expanded in meaning, until I have 
seen that it must stand in true relation to the whole circle of 
thought and action. The artist must not be a dreamer only, 
but a worker for humanity, a reformer. Thus Michael Angelo 



Helen P. Littlehale. 

Photogravure by John Andrew and Son. 
1854. 



ART. 129 

served his country in the darkest days of her history, and 
Victor Hugo was at once statesuiau and warrior and poet 
while his heart beat with the love of humanity. Life is the 
sum of all arts, and the true artist puts into expression for 
others the truths he has learned from all nature, experience, and 
thought. " Goil is the great Artist." 

It has been customary to speak of American Art, and its 
representatives, as suffering from cruel neglect and poverty in 
the early days of the country, and it has been contemptuously 
doubted whether American life offers any opportunity for Art. I 
feel that this is a very shallow view of the subject. It is absurd 
to expect from a new people, struggling with a wilderness, to 
found schools of painting or collect galleries of Art, and the 
founders of our own New England did not lay great stress on 
this side of life ; but the early records show abundant instances 
of the early longing of the people for Art,* and of the generous 
munificence which helped and encouraged the artist. The 
biographies of West, of Stuart, of Trumbull, and above all, of 
Allston, are enough to indicate the love of Art w^iich was in this 
people and struggling for expression. The story of West is too 
well known to need repetition, but the Quaker boy, rising to 
be the favorite of an English king, yet preserving his loyalty 
to his struggling country through all her trials, is full of inter- 
est. We may not place his actual achievement in Art very 
high, but he will compare favorably with most of his English 
contemporaries, and he ever held high the standard of Art, both 
in his truth to nature and in his relations to other artists, to 
whom he was a faithful and generous friend. 

There is an original power in Trumbull, which atones for 
his defects in education, which makes his works fresh and in- 
teresting, and which calls forth recognition from Goethe, and 
from Thackeray the injunction, "Never underrate or despise 
Trumbull." 

He has always seemed to me a noble type of the chivalric 



130 REMINISCENCES OF EDNA.H DOW CHENEY. 

gentleman. In Margaret Fuller's first work, " A Suiumer on the 
Lakes," she gives a very touching story of a man tragically 
married to a coarse, unworthy woman, and bearing his burden 
with the most manly courage and silence. Mrs. Clarke, the 
mother of Margaret's dear companion on this journey, Miss 
Sarah Freeman Clarke, told me that this heroic sufferer was 
Colonel Trumbull. I tried in vain to gain any verification of 
this fact, until many years afterward, when Mr. Sanborn sent 
me a passage giving an account of Cjlonel Trumbull's conduct 
from an eye-witness : 

"In a letter of King's to Gore (Feb. 19, 1817) he relates partic- 
ulars of this Englishwoman's intemperate conduct at a ball of the 
French minister in Washington. As King was sitting in conversa- 
tion with Correa, the Portuguese minister, he said, Mrs. T. quitted 
her husband's arm, and sallying towards me, almost tumbled into my 
arms, but by good fortune brought up on a empty chair at my right. 
She told me how much she esteemed me, hoped I was her friend and 
her husband's friend, and, under pretence of a low conversation, put 
her mouth to my ear. Correa expressed in his countenance admira- 
tion, and all who passed halted to observe our tete-a-tete. Mr. 
(H. G. Otis) happening to appear, slie made out to rise and take hold 
of him, beginning, as with me, to declare her esteem for him, aud 
invoking his friendship. 'How does Mr. Gore do? Is he any bet- 
ter? and Mrs. Gore, I hope she is well? he is one of my best friends, 
he is my father, he gave me to my husband ; Oh, how much I love 
him.' This morning I saw Colonel Trumbull on some business ; he 
looked as usual, without any expression of mortification in his coun- 
tenauce. I had thought I would try to muster up fortitude to tell 
him freely how much his own character suffered by this scandalous con- 
duct of his wife ; but his amiable countenance and polite manners dis- 
couraged me ; and we parted as usual, — except that I could not bring 
myself to uiake the usual inquiry concerning his wife." 

Stuart, as a portrait painter, is still unsurpassed in force and 
vigour in the delineation of character. 

But to Allston we are most of all indebted for the high stand- 
ard of idealism which makes his works so dear and elevating, 



ART. 131 

to the heart and mind. Unfortunately his works do not bear 
the ravages of time, many of them are already much injured. I 
well remember the excitement when his great picture of Bel- 
shazzar's feast was unrolled from its long oblivion, and first pre- 
sented for exhibition. The tragic grandeur of the half-erased 
soothsayers, and the exquisite beauty of the group of Jewesses 
made a deep impression. But perhaps the most remarkable 
thing about AUstou was the effect of his personality on other 
artists, who all looked up to him as " one of the Immortals." 
As one contemporary said when he died, "I have lost all my 
inspiration in Art, since I feel that he will not see my work." 

It was my blessed privilege for five years to share the life of 
one wlio was a true artist both in his life and his work. His fame 
was not wide, his work was limited to a few years, but there is 
not a touch of his pencil which does not bear witness to his 
high conception of his art, to his great knowledge of human 
nature on its best side, and to his entire conscientiousness and 
devotion. Through him I came to know some of the artists of 
that day, and I was very much 'struck with their generous rela- 
tion to each other. Our artists then were mostly self-taught 
and had to gather knowledge of their art from their own 
experience. Some of them indeed went to Europe in later 
years, but I think it was usually after they had made a 
name for themselves here. Accordingly there was usually great 
difference in the merit of their works, a happy inspiration^'was 
not always well carried out, and they did not form a permanent 
style. I have seen in the house of a well-known connoisseur, a 
portrait of Alexander's which we mistook for a fine old work of 
the Italian school, yet many of his paintings were very harsh 
and crude. Frothingham, who started in life as a carriage- 
painter, at times achieved an excellence at which Stuart mar- 
velled, saying, « He does not know himself what a good thing he 
has done." 

After the publication of the memoirs of my husband I had a 



132 EEMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

very interesting and delightful opportunity in an exhibition of 
the works of John and Seth W. Cheney, at the Museum of 
Fine Arts. The collection was prepared with great care by 
Mr, S. Pi. Koehler, and contained most of the works of these 
artists. 

The collection of portraits was a joy to many hearts, for they 
represented the dearest and best people of our city and time, 
and, as one of the managers of the Art Museum said, " It 
seemed like Thanksgiving Day, gathering together the loved 
ones who met again ! " 

Mr. Cheney's work represented the transcendental period, and 
it preserved, especially in the portraits of women, the beautiful 
blending of intellectual expression with the womanly sweetness 
of modesty and grace. His favorite themes were old men and 
women, and children who, in their budding beauty, prophesied 
the deeper meanings of life. 

Yet the portraits of men are not less striking in character 
and beauty ; the youthful face of Bryant gives all the poetry 
and truth which the artist found in this favorite poet. 

It was the most stormy time of a stormy winter, and many 
lost the opportunity of seeing this collection, which can probably 
never be repeated. 

I will say a few words of the contemporary artists whom I 
have known. Hammatt Billings was a man of the rarest intel- 
ligence, almost amounting to genius. He was a most delightful 
talker and excelled in his talent for nearly every style of art. 
But he lacked the finer element of conscience which looks upon 
Art as a sacred calling, and he scattered liis forces in many 
different and unworthy directions. His pecuniary necessities 
forced him into work for other architects, who bought his de- 
signs and used them according to their own purposes. He was 
so careless in the construction of his buildings that in one case 
he planned a room with no possible means of entrance to it 
unless by a ladder from the outside. He designed a church for 



i 



ART. 133 

Mr. Waterston's society in Bedford Street, which was nearly 
perfect both in design and execution. It was afterwards taken 
down. 

He made many illustrations for books and for Fourth of July 
fireworks as well. One of his best works was a series of illus- 
trations for "Pilgrim's Progress." I think it was never pub- 
lished and I do not know where it now is. 

Joseph Ames had a brilliancy of color and boldness and free- 
dom of execution which gave great promise. A fine portrait of 
Daniel Webster was one of his most successful paintings. An 
occasional coarseness marred his work. 

Mr. Cheney's success in portraiture in crayon led several 
other artists to try the same style. Of them Samuel Kowse 
achieved the greatest popularity. His pictures of children were 
full of grace and beauty, but he did not succeed so well in por- 
traying older and more thoughtful heads, such as Emerson, 
James Eussell Lowell, and Abby W. May. 

When I showed Theodore Parker the portrait of Emerson in 
photograph, he said, " That is not Emerson ; that man could not 
do the things Emerson has done." I always regretted that 
Eowse did not work in color ; his few attempts in this line have 
great delicacy and beauty. 

When I was about twenty-one years old my father and 
mother both sat for their portraits to William Page, the artist 
mentioned by James Ptussell Lowell, in his " Fable for Critics," 
in these words : 

" Be true to yourselves and this new nineteenth age 
As a statue by Powers, or a picture by Pa^e." 

He was, indeed, a man of extraordinary talent and full of ideas. 
Of a passionate and wilful temperament, he was absorbed by 
theories, and his work was often damaged by experiments in 
color and material. I learned much from him, for he allowed 
me to sit and watch the whole process of painting my mother's 



134 EEMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

picture. He entirely rejected Lis first two attempts, and only 
completed it on a third trial. His method of painting at that 
time was to make a careful outline in black and red, neutral 
color, then to alternate blue, black, and red, working out the 
features more distinctly, until the requisite amount of red, and 
the proper depth of shadow is attained. Then he added a film 
of yellow, and finally glazed a delicate film of white over it all. 
He was very fond of deep color, and was glad of a chance to 
use red and yellow as much as possible. The result in this case 
was very rich, both in the drapery and flesh, and was much ad- 
mired by Hamilton Wild and other young colorists. It was 
painted in 1846, and is now as fresh and brilliant as at first, but 
I do not think it very true to the character and expression of 
my mother. It is stiff and rigid, and has none of that sweet, 
modest bloom which distinguished her all her life.* My 
father's portrait is thoroughly realistic, but more lifelike. 

I enjoyed Page's conversation very much, but he said that he 
would never again let any one see a portrait of his until it was 
finished ; he found that he painted to my eye instead of his 
own, and wanted to have the likeness increase at every sitting. 
Page was a thorough realist, and would have needed no injunc- 
tion to paint the wart on Cromwell's nose, but his imagination 
sometimes penetrated below the surface very deeply into the 
real. He told me that he was once asked to paint the portrait 
of a lady, the president of a benevolent society. She was the 
very ideal of ugliness, like Charles Lamb's Mrs. Conrady ; there 
was a perfect harmony in it, it impressed you at once and 
forever. Page delighted in portraying tlie full expression. 
Nothing was softened or omitted. The lady's daughter sat 
with her, but was not allowed to see the portrait. When it was 
finished Mr. Page told her to look at it. As she stood and gazed, 

* I have always preferred for this reason the portrait of a crayon by Miss Har- 
riet Cheney (Mrs. James Cheney), a cousin of my husband. She was a young 
artist of great promise. 



ART. 135 

she put up one hand to wipe her moistened eye, and then 
another, and then burst out, " My mother is a good woman, if 
she is homely." Page thought his work a success. 

Page was an excellent draughtsman, and was much interested 
in working out a scheme' for human proportion. He took his 
hint from Eevelation, but how he worked it out I cannot tell ; 
but it is a curious instance of his vein of mysticism in the 
midst of his realism.* Among the interesting portraits which 
he painted in Boston was one of James Russell Lowell's first 
wife, Maria White, and a portrait of President Eliot for Me- 
morial Hall. 

An extract from Longfellow's " Life " gives a good account of 
Page's art: 

"A call from Emerson, who gave us an account of Page's new picture 
of Kuth, which he thinks very fine. 

" 'It imposes silence on you, which is the effect of all great paintings. 
The figures are solid, and like sculpture could be weighed, and as 
some one said, " If you scratched them, they would bleed." ' After- 
ward came in, full of the picture. He said the same things that 

Emerson had said about the figures being weighed, and bleeding if 
scratched, and imposing silence. So that is probably the received 

phraseology in regai'd to the painting. He said, moreover that 

had uttered the following judgment on the piece : ' It is the greatest 
thing that America lias yet done in painting or in anything else.' Let 
me breathe ! It is the fashion with Young America to consider 
Allston a mere dauber in comparison with Page." 

I saw this picture in his studio with much interest, but I do 
not think posterity has ratified the opinion of contemporary 
critics. 

His life was a tragic one, and his fame does not answer to his 
early promise, but he was a genuine artist and I have always 
felt grateful for my early acquaintance with him. 

* I think the passage was Kev. xxi. 17 : "And he measured the wall thereof, 
a hundred and forty and four cubits, according to the measure of a man, that is, of 
an aijgel." 



136 KExMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

Alpheus Carey Morse was auother friend possessing great 
natural talent, but he lacked concentration and perseverance in 
his line of art. Some of his portraits are very beautiful, how- 
ever, as one of Miss Ariana S. Walker, the wife of Mr. Frank 
B. Sanborn, and one of Mrs. Pollen. He devoted his last years 
to architecture, in which he was successful. He was one of the 
most genial and delightful of companions. 

I will now speak of Kimberley, since he has already reached 
so great an age that he will hardly be living wlien these pages, 
if ever, see the light. One of the most eccentric of human 
beings he combined rare qualities of mind and heart, delicate 
feeling and warm enthusiasm, with a recklessness of manner 
and heedlessness of conduct which sorely tried the patience of 
his frieuds, though he still held within bounds and did not 
lose their regard. He had the soul and eye of an artist, but 
his education was defective and he had not the constancy of 
purpose to make up for this defect. He would begin a portrait 
with great feeling and enthusiasm, and it was full of promise, 
but he had exhausted himself in the first stages and could not 
finish it with equal skill. He had the most intense love of my 
husband and a great regard for all his family. They are in- 
debted to him for many cheerful hours. After Mr. Cheney's 
death Mr. Kimberley made repeated attempts to reproduce his 
features in sculpture, in painting, in crayon, and even in engrav- 
ing. All have some valuable glimpses of likeness, and yet they 
are seldom harmonious and complete enough to give perfect 
satisfaction. Still, they remain the best things that have been 
done and the one engraved for the memoir gives the best expres- 
sion of his subject.* He removed to Paris when he was quite 
aged, where his wife died, but he still continues to paint although 

* I must make an exception of a life-size photograph by Mr. Hawes, which 
lias been worked up in crayon by some hand, I do not know whether by Mr. 
Hawes himself or by John Cheney. This is by far the most expressive likeness of 
Mr. Seth W. Clieney remaining. 



AET. 137 

in his ninetieth year. He was an excellent singer and rendered 
alike sacred and comic music with the greatest effect. Many 
will remember him as one of the choir at Trinity Church, where 
lie was retained for his rare sympathetic voice, although his 
behavior often scandalized the dignitaries of the church. He 
was brimming over with fun and frolic, but as the natural result 
of such a temperament was often depressed and moody. 

Another very different person was Eichard Staigg, best known 
as a miniature painter. An Englishman by birth he had all the 
sterling traits of conscience, fidelity, and unselfishness which 
make up the moral fibre of an artist. He began life immbly in 
New Bedford, where he supported his mother by his labor, 
but the miniature painting in which he spent his leisure hours 
attracted the attention of connoisseurs and he was soon able to 
devote himself entirely to his art. He was always a gentleman in 
manners and deportment, and his art partook of the same quali- 
ties : it was graceful and pleasing, but lacked individuality and 
strength. His portrait of Daniel Webster is only a pleasing 
miniature likeness. 

Similar traits characterized Thomas Ball, who has given in 
his reminiscences a beautiful story of fidelity and truth to his 
own thought. His mother was dependent upon him for support 
and care. He had an equal love of music and the plastic 
arts, and was ready to do anything honest by which he could 
support her. His first experiments were in color, in which he 
was not very successful ; taste seemed lacking to restrain the 
violent effects which attracted him. At last he found his true 
place in sculpture, and has given us many ideal works of great 
beauty. But he has told his own story so simply and clearly 
that I need only give him my tribute of respect and welcome 
him to the brotherhood of Art. 

William Furness too, blessed soul that he was, kept his high 
place in Art by his true moral nature. Loving Art from his 
childhood he turned from the road to wealth which was offered 



138 EExMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

to him, and firmly relying on himself, devoted his life to the pur- 
suit of Art. Yet he knew himself perfectly and was under no 
delusion. For him it was the pathway of hard work not of swift 
guiding genius. He was faithful to his task. When he saw the 
exhibition of the famous Dusseldorf school he said " It makes 
me sad; it is all that talent and industry can accomplish." He 
died young but he left a few works of great merit, especially a 
portrait of Mr. Emerson and one of his father, the beloved min- 
ister. One fine saying of his was, " It is the bad work that 
discourages me, the finest picture always makes me hopeful for 
myself." 

Eastman Johnson began his career in crayon portraiture, with 
great vigor and truth to nature in his work, but his drawings 
lacked the delicacy and ideality which make this branch of Art 
attractive. He afterwards went to Holland and studied many 
years, and has made an enduring reputation by his paintings in 
oil. I have seen but little of his later work. His name re- 
calls au amusing incident which shows the progress of woman in 
the last half-century. When I first saw him in Paris in 1854, 1 
met him at an evening reception. As he sat beside me he 
noticed a very pleasing lady well and handsomely dressed (Dr. 

N C ), and asked me who she was. I answered, " She 

is Dr. C ;" but he did not seem to understand and asked 

a"ain. " She is here attending medical lectures with her 
brother. Dr. Talbot." " What ! " he said in extreme surprise, 
"a doctor ! Does she ride about in her gig?" "I don't know 
whether her practice yet warrants that," I said, " but I have 
other friends who are physicians." " Well," he said, " tell me 
some more of your Boston notions ; I have been seven years at 
the Hague and have heard nothing." 

Owing to the illness of our party, I had little opportunity of 
seeing the artists in Paris or elsewhere in Europe. I met 
Christopher P. Cranch and William Story and William M. Hunt. 

Hunt was one of the few American artists who could not 



ART. 139 

complain of defective education. He had every opportunity 
which money and the interest of his friends could procure. But 
most of all he had the friendship and companionship of Fraugois 
Millet, the great painter of modern times. I think Hunt's best 
works were done under his influence, and bear the stamp of his 
love of nature and keen perception of life and character. But 
Hunt's works never have the earnest love of humanity, which 
makes everything of Millet's great and tender. He had much 
charm of color and a feeling for homely beauty, but even his 
peasants have a high-bred air unlike Millet's genuine creations. 

His best portraits are very noble, — Judge Shaw's, for instance, 
— but he often failed in the delineation of character. He was 
wilful and passionate, and had not mastered the secrets of life 
so as to make all service a high purpose. His last great work, 
the frescoes at Albany, I cannot but regard as a miserable 
failure. He did not seek to meet the wants or feelings of the 
people to whom his work was to be addressed, but indulged his 
own fancv for a remote and obscure foreign lenend. 

The drawing, the action of the horses was admirable, but the 
thought and the life of the work were wanting ; at least they did 
not speak to his audience. " Perhaps I should like them better 
if I knew what they were about," said a countrywoman at the 
Capitol. Time has dealt ruthlessly with them, and tliey are now 
destroyed or removed. By his lessons to his classes and by the 
inspiration of his conversation he did great service to woman. 

I saw Ary Scheffer in his own studio, and he looked the great 
artist that he was, one who spoke the language of tender senti- 
ments of homely truth. I took lessons of his less known 
brother, Henri Scheffer, a good draughtsman, but no genius. 

But I had more intimate acquaintance with two artists of 
less note. William Babcock attracted us by his charming 
naturalness, and his hearty admiration of his great master 
Millet. He had the misfortune to leave home and country early, 
and even in Paiis he did not have the retjular instruction of a 



140 EEMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

school or teacher, so he never thoroughly acquired the first prin- 
ciples of drawing. His love of color and his exquisite appreciation 
of it could not wholly make up for the defect, and his pictures 
give only the feeling which color expresses, without the intel- 
lectual meaning which form best reveals. Living without home 
and family be was wayward and niooily, but withal, most affec- 
tionate and winning in his personality. Wlien we were in 
Barbizon be spent every evening at Millet's home, and would 
give us charming accounts of Millet's relations to his children, 
and of bis reading to them fair}'' stories, and the old Bible his- 
tories. It was amusing, and at the same time very interesting, 
to see the delight which the grown man had in passages from 
the Bible, which, to most people, had become worn out and 
hackneyed by senseless repetition, but which had to him all the 
freshness of original thought when lieard from the lips of genius. 
He was our companion in trying days. He has left some gems 
of painting, as well as a valuable collection of prints and photo- 
graphs to our Art Museum. 

I had the pleasure of a brief acquaintance with Pierre Millet, 
the younger brother of Francois, who at one time resided in 
Boston. He told me he well remembered when his brother had 
the first idea of the Angelus. Millet always dwelt much on the 
effect of the state of the atmosphere on the distinctness and 
beauty of sound, and one evening he called his brother's atten- 
tion to the quality of the air as most favorable to sound, and 
said that he would like to paint a picture, in which this appear- 
ance of the air would indicate the sounds that filled it. He 
took the evening bell as adapted to the hour, and has so per- 
fectly represented not only the stillness of the evening, made 
more impressive by the distant bell, but the sacred feelings of 
the young couple who listen to the sound, that no one doubts 
that the bell is actually sounding, or fails to lift his soul to 
heaven in response. Pierre Millet said that he himself stood 
as model for the study of the peasant's attitude. 



ART. 141 

And dearest of all was the French painter Dabourjal, a type of 
the best Frenchman, whom I hold to be about the best result of the 
civilized world. He never attained great fame, but was simple, 
true, and conscientious. He set aside his own happiness to sup- 
port his mother and sisters, but was the most cheerful and 
sympathetic of companions. He had been to this country, and 
here painted the miniature of my husband and his brother John 
(treasures they are), and a few others, but he did not win great 
success here, and he returned to his home. For tenderness of 
feeling, delicacy of expression, and fine sympathy, I have never 
met his superior. 

One of my husband's early friends, although much younger 
than himself, was George Fuller. He worked in New York 
mostly, at the time when he knew Mr. Cheney, where he had a 
rising reputation. But after his father's death he retired to his 
farm in Greenfield, Mass., where, in the interval of his farm 
labors, he produced many of his most charming pictures. The 
quiet and simplicity of the country were reproduced in such 
beautiful representations as Winifred Dysart, whose unconscious 
beauty recalls the line of Shakspeare, — 

" In maiden meditation faucy-free." 

When he returned to Boston he was at once warmly wel- 
comed, and in the short time which he remained he gave us 
many valuable portraits. His last work finished was a portrait 
of my daughter. Among those pictures which he painted in 
Greenfield, was an admirable portrait of a domestic in his house- 
hold, who is a noble representative of a truly brave, honest 
working-woman. It is as significant of the worth of labor as 
Millet's peasants. 

Dr. William Eimmer was a remarkable man rather than a 
great artist. His early history is strange and romantic, and 
accounts for many of his peculiar characteristics. He was first 
known here as a physician who, residing near the granite quarries 



142 . EEMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY, 

of Qaincy, had cut from the granite a head of St. Stephen of 
remarkable vigor and expression. It is now in the collection 
of the Art Museum. It attracted the attention of Mr. Stephen 
Perkins and other connoisseurs, who persuaded him to devote 
himself to the pursuit of Art. He was a skilful anatomist, and 
he began his new career as a teacher of artistic anatomy, confining 
his lessons to the outer signs of the muscles, joints, etc. He 
was a very inspiring teacher and soon had a class of enthusiastic 
young ladies, among whom were some of great promise. I re- 
member well Miss Abby May Alcott, Miss Susan Hale, Miss 
Harriet Cheney, Miss Elizabeth Bartol, Miss Elizabeth Greene, 
and others, who attained to much excellence. His off-hand 
illustrations on the blackboard were full of life and vigor. Ar- 
tists admired them greatly and wished to preserve them, but he 
could not carry them out to perfect finish. This seems to me 
the great danger in American Art. It remains sketchy and fails 
to preserve the first expression in a complete work. His full- 
sized statues, of which one of Hamilton is in the Public Garden, 
are unequal in workmanship and unworthy of the genius of the 
man. He was not a student of nature, but bade even his un- 
formed pupils to work only from their own mind and avoid 
direct imitation. He was a man of astonishing variety of 
resource, with great love of literature, and wide acquaintance 
with art, — a man from whom one might learn a great deal, 
rather than a teacher. He gave a valuable series of lessons in 
the Lowell course in Boston, I believe for young women only ; 
and as a curious bit of history, I will narrate that much oppo- 
sition was made to the young women studying from the nude. 
The proposition was made that the pupils should all be veiled 
during the lesson, but this Mohammedan solution did not meet 
the feeling of the women, and I think the lessons were not 
repeated. 

He did good service afterward as teacher of anatomical draw- 
ing in the school of the Museum of Fine Arts. 



ART. 143 

Michael Angelo has always been the great artist to me. I 
have spoken and written so much of him that I will not repeat 
it here, except to speak of his poems which I published with 
selected translations (in 1885). My attention was first called 
to these by my husband, who pronounced them equal to his 
paintings at the Sistine Chapel, and they have ever since been 
my beloved companions. That I have been able to introduce 
them to a few lovers of art is one of the few literary achieve- 
ments on which I congratulate myself. 

Albrecht Diirer has been very dear to me. I shall never 
forget the strength which we gained from his wonderful series 
of the " Passion," especially the agony in the garden, when my 
husband was very ill in Dresden. I have written fully of him 
in my " Gleanings in the Fields of Art." 

But my best artistic gain on my second European trip was 
from acquaintance with the works of David Scott, the Scottish 
genius who has been my inspiration and help for over fifty 
years. It is still the delight of my old age to open to this 
young generation the treasure of his thought, and I find them 
prompt to receive it as I was in my maiden days. Mr. Emerson 
and Margaret Fuller recognized his genius as early as 1846, and 
he painted that portrait of Emerson wliich now hangs in the 
Concord Library, and which, in spite of some peculiarities of 
color and manner, yet reveals the true vitality and power of the 
great thinker more than any other representation of him. The 
very attitude and motion of the hand brings bis person before 
you. 

Mr. Emerson brought home to Mr. Alcott a set of Symbolic 
Monographs of Life which fully answered to the philosopher's 
thought. Mr. Alcott lent them to me, and I studied them with 
such interest that he promised to leave them to me as a last 
legacy. Bat alas ! in the chances and changes of life they 
disappeared, and I have never received them. They are repro- 
duced in a volume of Scott's designs published after his death, 



144 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

but something of tlie original strength and beauty is lost in this 
reproduction. Mr. Cheney's first Christmas present to me was 
a copy of Pilgrim's Progress with Scott's illustrations. They 
are full of wonderful meaning and beauty. Dr. Eimmer said 
of him, " The designs are as strong as Michael Angelo." When 
in Edinburgh I took pains to see every picture of his that I 
could hear of, and through the kindness of owners I saw several 
noble works. I have procured everything that was possible, 
and finally through the kindness of the wife of Prof. Nichols, I 
became the possessor of his spiritual and beautiful illustrations 
of Nichols, " Architecture of the Heavens." I remember this 
book well, as the first one which opened the heavens to me, as 
Herschel had seen them through his great telescope. It made a 
powerful impression. 1 was at the seashore and as I stood on 
the beach and looked up to the broad sky above me, I felt lost 
in the immensity of the spectacle and questioned of God. " What 
is God that he is mindful of me ? " And then into my mind 
came the wonderful thought of Law, that was binding all these 
immense worlds into harmony, and yet eared for the tiniest 
pebble that was rolled up on the beach, and fashioned by the 
same power, and according to the same cause. Eeligion and 
science " met and kissed each other," and I have never doubted 
of their union since. Fifty years afterwards I found the same 
inspiration in this book as in my youthful days, David Scott 
died before he completed the engraving of his illustrations, and 
they were finished by his brother, a very different man of varied 
gifts. His memoirs are, however, very interesting, and contain 
a most impressive picture of the last hours of the great artist.* 

And now a word of the women who have made such advance 
in art during the century. I had the pleasure of meeting Eosa 
Bonheur in her atelier and in her school. She was direct, 

* I have written so much elsewhere of Scott that I will not say more of him 
here. For a further account see my " Gleanings in the Fields of Art," or still 
better, the life of Scott written by his brother. 



ART. 145 

business-like, and conscious of the value of time, yet when we 
(Miss Clarke and myself) introduced ourselves as interested in 
a school of design for women, she invited us to her school, made 
an appointment to which she asked us to be punctual, and went 
through the school with us. When asked as to her method of 
teaching she answered, " Bon Dieu elles dessinent, et moi, je les 
corrige." 

Our own countrywomen have achieved greater success in 
sculpture than in painting. Harriet Hosmer, Anne Whitney, 
and others less known to me, have achieved a lasting reputation, 
but my memory dwells tenderly on one less known, but hardly 
less worthy, if unfortunate. Poor Margaret Foley struggled 
with poverty and with a sensitive temperament which made 
her sometimes a prey to melancholy, but she had rare powers 
which may yet blossom in that fair clime where we may say 
"Good-morning." She was a poor girl from New Hampshire, 
and I first knew her as a student in the School of Design for 
Women. She was then teaching at Lowell in the afternoon, 
and went between the two cities every day. She began pro- 
fessional work as a cameo cutter, and had gained such popu- 
larity that she had orders to the amount of one thousand dollars 
when the panic of 1857 stopped all extravagance in art. She 
received only fifty dollars. She was almost discouraged, but 
by the sympathy and encouragement of a few friends (among 
whom Miss Sarah F. Clarke was foremost) she persevered. 
She managed later to save four hundred dollars, with which she 
went to Europe, but owing to the high price of exchange at 
that time, her four hundred dwindled to about half the amount, 
and she was on tlie verge of starvation. Her fellow-country- 
woman, Harriet Hosmer, was her kind friend, though she hardly 
knew the extent of her destitution. She began to work in 
sculpture and made a beautiful model for a fountain, which, 
through the kind offices of her friend Miss Clarke, was proposed 
for the Park at Chicago, The bargain was all but completed 

10 



146 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

when the disastrous lire of 1872 put all such matters out of 
mind. The fountain represented three or four children playing 
about the stream. One of them, called " The Timid Bather," 
has been frequently repeated, and is a charming statue. Among 
her friends were William and Mary Howitt, who loved and 
helped her as they would a daughter. Some years later an 
order was received from Philadelphia for the fountain. But 
life was ebbing away, and the artist had the sad satisfaction 
of receiving on her death-bed the money she had so long needed 
to keep her in life. A rare and beautiful spirit ! A medallion 
of Charles Sumner belonging to the New England Women's 
Club is the only important work of hers besides the fountain 
in America. 

Equally lovely in life and death was Jane M. Clark, of whom 
I have spoken in my " Memoir of S. W. Cheney." 

Miss Sarah Freeman Clarke was an exquisite landscape 
painter. She was the only pupil of Allston, and she learned 
his idealism and quiet poetic beauty. She was the intimate 
friend of Margaret Fuller. Among her most beautiful works 
are the pictures of temples in Egypt, and also a very interesting 
series of pencil-drawings representing all the places made 
sacred to the residence of Dante through his long and varied 
exile. Miss Clarke lived many years in Italy, but returned 
to make a home in Georgia, where she lived to old age, employ- 
ing her pencil without glasses, and, what is even better, in the 
service of the colored people who lived around her. She first 
formed the public library in Atlanta. 



REFORMS. 147 



CHAPTER X. 

REFORMS. 

"When through long bitter strife, and weaiy years 
Freedom's stern battle for the riglit is won. 
And hope takes place of fear, and joy of tears, 
Who is it that the mighty work has done ? 

*' They sought no glory that this earth affords, 

Saw not the wreath which should their temples twine ; 
Spoke out their message in immortal words, 
Such Prophets wist not that their faces shine." 

Eliza Lee Follen. 

AX my return from oue of my Southern journeys in 1867 I 
found a new and most interesting society had been formed, 
called the " Free Religious Association." I was extremely sorry 
to have missed the first meeting, which represented a spontan- 
eous movement in many minds, but I was soon appointed a 
director in the association and I have worked in it ever since. 
Theodore Parker was gone, but he had left his impress upon 
many minds who were longing for a generous communion in 
religion with no fetters of church or creed or nation. The 
constitution was as free as possible, leaving each member 
responsible for his own opinion alone. It is impossible to 
report the inspiration and freedom of the first meetings. A 
galaxy of brilliant minds, such as may never gather again, 
spoke out with perfect freedom their thought, which had been 
maturing in silent meditation for many years. Alcott and 
Emerson and Octavius B. Erothingham and John Weiss, Erancis 
E. Abbot, and T. W. Higginson, and William J. Potter, Samuel 
Johnson, William Henry Channiug, Cyrus Bartol, John T. 



148 EEMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

Sargent, Lucretia Mott, David A. Wassoii, Charles A. B. Mills, 
and Samuel Longfellow, with many a lesser light, were there, 
and gave us year after year, a wealth of thought unsurpassed 
in its richness and variety. The strong characteristic of the 
new society was that it did not stand within the circle of 
Christianity alone, but welcomed truth from any source. When 
Kesho Chunder Sen founded his Brahmo Somaj in India, the 
Free Eeligious Association of America responded most warmly, 
and welcomed him to their communion ; and thus was begun 
that great work which has naturalized the faiths of the Eastern 
world among us, and given us a brotherhood with the Buddhist, 
Parsee, and Hindoo. The Jew found himself no longer shut 
out from his fellow-men, and felt a happiness that he had never 
known before; while the agnostic might express his doubt, and 
was listened to with calm respect. We attempted to have 
representatives of all sects, but found that they would not 
come upon our terras ; they preferred their own churches, 
where they could appeal to emotion and feeling uncontradicted 
by reason or fact. We had on one occasion, however, a discus- 
sion by Mr. Abbot and a Catholic bishop, on the great question 
of the public school ; and we always freely invited representa- 
tives of different faiths to address us. Neither had we forgotten 
the pleasure of fellowship, and our evening festivals have 
offered opportunity for the most genial and delighted expression, 
espQcially in the earlier time, when Mrs. Sargent made the 
salad, and Mrs. Joslin sent her unrivalled baked beans. Miss 
Lucy Goddard and Miss McDaniel decorated the rooms, and 
the company did their own singing. The speakers of the day 
then had a separate table of their own, and the young lady 
waiters were charged to keep them supplied with the best of 
coffee, that they might be refreshed and ready for the enter- 
tainment of the evening. But times changed, and the caterer 
was called in, and a different spirit prevailed. Still the Festival 
holds its place, and gives opportunity for that fellowship of the 



REFORMS. 149 

spirit which our constitution states to be an object of the 
association. 

But the best of all is that we hope we are becoming useless, 
for the spirit of free religion is fast permeating all the 
societies. How much of it is due to our special efforts, we do 
not care to estimate, but we feel that, as an advance guard, we 
still have our place in importance. 

Among those most cherished of our numbers was our first 
secretary and later president, Mr. Potter. His thorough earnest- 
ness, his entire freedom, united with a gentle tenderness, 
endeared him to all, so that he could speak the truth without 
offence. His sudden death in the ripeness of his powers, when 
he was full of schemes for the future usefulness of the associa- 
tion, was an irreparable loss. With the resignation of Mr. 
Hioginson, his successor, it seemed to close its first brilliant 
period. Let us hope that under the new regime it will still do 
frood work wherever it is needed. 

We hoped that the succession of Dr. Lewis G. Janes might 
become a link between this early brilliant time and the thoughts 
of the younger generation which must have its own expression. 
His perfect liberality of mind and his wide scholarship as well 
as his genial temper made him especially fitted for this work, 
and it was a keen disappointment when he was so suddenly 
taken from life. He died in 1901. 

We hope that his successor will take up the torch of liberty 
with all the enthusiasm and the wisdom of youth. 

The Parliament of Eeligions in Chicago, in 1893, was a most 
noteworthy event. It seemed a real Pentecost, for men of all 
times and faiths met together, and yet all seemed to speak with 
the same spirit. It has given rise to several other meetings in 
different places. This has emphasized to me, most strongly, the 
importance, not only of unity, but of difference. The Eastern 
religions brought to us great enrichment, because they had pur- 
sued their own way of thought, yet each had arrived at the 



150 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

same great truths though with varied manifestations. So it is 
uniformity, and not unity which denies all faiths but its own. 

This Congress of Eeligion, at the great celebration of the Dis- 
covery of America, was a most welcome event, exactly in line 
with our efforts in the Free Eeligious Association, but broadened 
into international interests. 

It was very striking that the expressions of universal reli- 
gion met the most cordial recognition from the great audience 
at the congress. The influence of the meeting has spread far 
and wide. One delightful result from the general growth of 
this broad and harmonizing sentiment is the hope of closing 
the chasm in the great church of Congregationalism. 

Throughout all the heated controversy of Unitarianism and 
Trinitarianism both parties met once a year in Anniversary 
Week, and now there seems promise of a deeper union, by the 
spiritual recognition of truths which have been held to the 
letter and disguised to the spirit. Such changes are gradual, and 
only recognized as new thinkers can cast off the fetters of sect 
and speak and act as independent thinkers. 

A rather unique association, which has given me a great 
deal of comfort and pleasure, was organized in 1871 (American 
Association for the Advancement of Women), although I did 
not join it until a year or two later. I think it was first 
started by members of Sorosis and other friends of New York, 
to unite all the women who were interested in their advance- 
ment by holding a congress once a year, when all the speakers 
should be women and they should discuss all matters of practi- 
cal or theoretic interest. The congresses were held for about 
twenty years in different cities, and were generally attended by 
enthusiastic audiences. The organization of the society was a 
little crude and cumbrous and did not work wholly without 
friction, yet it accomplished a great deal of good. 

We were always entertained in the cities we visited, which 
gave us an excellent opportunity to make friends in different 



REFOEMS. 151 

parts of the country, and to think more justly of others than we 
had done before. We were anxious to go to the South for this 
reason, and were much pleased with a cordial invitation to go to 
Memphis for a congress. We met with a very kind reception, 
although one of our number could remember the time when 
thirty thousand dollars was offered for her abolitionist father's 
head in this city, where Mrs. Howe's battle hymn was now 
sung again and again in compliment to her. 

At Buffalo the ministers, except the Unitarians, preached 
against us, advising their people to stay away from our meetings. 
In consequence of which, perhaps, we had the most successful 
congress of the whole series. The Opera House was crowded, 
and the courtesy of tlie entertainers made everything delightful. 
Mrs. Howe was asked to speak in the Unitarian church on Sun- 
day, and did so to a crowded audience. The Buffalo people have 
since dated all their progress in woman's work from that time. 
I must especially mention one lady who joined us here, who 
proved very valuable in our subsequent work, Miss Mary A. 
Ripley. She had been a skilful teacher, but had lost her health 
and been obliged to give up her work. She was a fine speaker 
and had such exquisite humor that she won her audience by her 
very first words, yet she never sank below her level; her fine 
English marked the scholar and lady in everything she said, 
and she was very earnest in advocating the most unpopular re- 
forms. She had been obliged to cut off her hair in her illness, 
which showed to advantage her large square head. At Mem- 
phis she was said to resemble the Episcopal minister, and when 
told of the comparison, he replied, "Yes, I know it; she looks 
like me and she talks like me." She was so niuch liked there 
that she was invited to remain and give a course of lectures. It 
was her last appearance at our meetings; she was taken ill at a 
little village, where I fear she suffered want of care, and died. 
The ladies of Buffalo have named a room in their beautiful 
library in memory of her. 



152 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

We were received with kind hospitality at the South. We 
visited Louisville, Knoxville, Memphis, Atlanta, and New 
Orleans. At Knoxville I was much pleased with the liberality 
shown in religious matters. Mrs. Howe was invited to preach 
in the largest Congregational church in the city, and wliat was 
even more remarkable, Mrs. Wolcott was asked to repeat in the 
evening an address on a charitable subject which was considered 
a brave utterance in our meetings. I, being a little more of a 
radical, was asked to speak to a new society which " met in a 
small upper room," but we had a good time notwithstanding. 

While we went to the South in an entirely friendly feeling 
and did not wish to antagonize their social prejudices, we yet de- 
sired to express our own feelings in regard to the great problem 
of equal relation v^-ith the colored portion of the people. We 
therefore announced visits to the great schools at Atlanta and 
Tuskegee as part of our programme. 

Our reception at Atlanta University was most cordial and in- 
teresting, and we had a fine reception attended by many pupils 
and teachers from other schools. This school is devoted to the 
higher education of tlie people. Its managers believe that the 
fullest development of the mind is of importance to the best wel- 
fare, and is the right of every human being. They do not ignore 
the present condition of most of the colored people, but they be- 
lieve in inspiring them with the highest ideals, that they " if they 
be lifted up, may draw up all others." Their great purpose 
is to supply good teachers to other schools. Yet they do not 
neglect the importance of manual training, but do excellent work 
in various branches. 

I was also very much interested in other schools in Atlanta, 
especially in the admirable theological school, which I believe 
is the best endowed colored school in the country. A fine, 
manly looking class of colored men were engaged in translating 
the Greek Testament, and I could not but think what a great 
step in advanced thinking it was to recognize that the Bible 



REFORMS. 153 

was a translation, and did not come directly down from Heaven 
in King James's version. 

At Tuskegee we saw the working out of a different problem. 
If Mr. Bumstead's aim is to develop the whole man, and to 
show that the negro is capable of receiving and wisely using 
the highest education. Mr. Washington is endeavoring to meet 
the most urgent and most wide-spread want of th'e present 
time, by a severely practical education, which will form a basis 
for all subsequent attainments. The two are in harmony, for 
several of the teachers of Tuskegee are from the Atlanta 
school. 

I was very much struck with the change in the address of a 
stranger to a colored man. Formerly he said, " Whom do you 
belong to ? " now he commonly asks a young man, " What school 
did 3^ou go to ? " 

Mr. Washington is a very rare man, of great eloquence and 
broad knowledge of mankind, which enables him to choose his 
assistants well, and his own modesty of character and demeanor 
almost hides his superiority. His heart is bound up with the 
future of his people, and he is doing an immense work for their 
recognition, and for ultimate amalgamation with the other ele- 
ments which go to make up the future American people. 

We were not less interested in a little club which Mrs. Wash- 
ington had establislied for the women of the neighborhood on 
Saturdays, when they come into town to do their weekly shop- 
ping. This day had mostly been spent in gossip by the women, 
and Mrs. Washington invited them to meet her and have a 
little talk about their best interests and partake of a social cup 
of coffee. While these women waited for their leader, they 
beguiled the time with singing spirituals with a pathos and 
beauty which far surpassed what we had heard in the schools. 
Young America is neglecting these old spirituals; it loves 
better to sing, as other people do, Moody and Sankey's hymns. 
New generations prefer to voice the hope of the future, and not 



154 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

tlie wail of the past. Yet the memory of those old songs should 
be preserved, for they sustained the souls of the people through 
their many years of bondage. In the morning as I lay luxuri- 
ously musing in the beautiful sunrise light, I was suddenly 
aware of music sweeter than the birds sounding through the 
morning air. It was the greeting of the pupils of the school, 
who thus welcome their visitors to a new day with them. This 
was an instance of the poetic feeling and natural religion so 
precious among this ignorant people. 

I must preserve one anecdote to show the spirit of the 
times. Two of our friends had to leave earlier than we did. 
At the station they found a white gentleman who was very 
much inclined to be courteous. He spoke very highly of Mr. 
Washington, and then said, " I am afraid you ladies have not 
been quite comfortable here, as the hotel is very poor." " Oh, 
yes, we were very comfortable," they replied ; " Mr. Washington 
entertained us in his own house." " What ! " said the man. 
" Washington is a very good fellow, I like him very much ; but 
I 'd no sooner sit down in his house, nor have him sit down in 
mine, than nothing at all." Miss W. replied, " Do you have 
two Gods down here, a white one and a black one?" He looked 
as if a pistol had been fired at him, and then said, " Sometimes 
I think we have n't any God at all down here." * 

This story well illustrates the actual feeling of the South, 
They have no personal physical feeling against contact with 
the African race, as is abundantly proved by the love of their 
old mammys and other relations, but they are utterly opposed 
to any equality with their former slaves. It is only by slow 
degrees that this feeling will wear away. It is of the first im- 
portance that all legislation sanctioning such distinctions should 
be abolished. We cannot have permanent peace and a true 

* This was in 1892 before Mr. Washington had been welcomed to the best 
houses in England, and had sat down at the White House with our brave 
President, 



REFORMS. 155 

republic with a body of millions of people who are not heartily- 
one with us. The process of entire fusion of different races 
will be slow and attended by many sufferings and wrongs and 
cruelties, but the result must be accomplished if the American 
republic is to be perfected and perpetuated. 

In 1868 the New England Woman's Club was formed. It 
seemed to be the spontaneous thought of many minds. I do 
not trace it so directly as the successor of the sanitary work 
during the war as Miss Sprague has done in her excellent his- 
tory of the Club, but it was a true child of the times, and evi- 
dently filled a want felt by many. The almost simultaneous 
origin of the New York Sorosis proved this. Mrs. Howe took 
up the idea with great earnestness, and was the inspirer of 
many clubs, both here and in Europe. I cannot express suffi- 
cient gratitude for the constant pleasure and comfort it has 
given me ; the tie between the members was very strong, and 
we loved to be together, in the times of sadness as well as of 
joy and merriment. 

Who will ever forget the spontaneous tribute to Charles 
Sumner, Lydia Maria Child, or the birthday celebrations of 
Miss Lucy Goddard and Elizabeth P. Peabody, the golden wed- 
ding of Mrs. Judith W. Smith, or, still later, the celebration of 
the eightieth birthday of our president ? The condition of women 
has greatly changed since my youthful time. No young woman 
is satisfied to live without a purpose, and the woman in the 
loneliest town on the prairie does not feel isolated when she 
can go weekly or monthly to her club, or once in two years to 
the General Federation, and gather strength and comfort and 
intellectual help by meeting with other women. 

Erom the formation of the club there has been a large liber- 
ality for all religious and political opinions, and a sacred' regard 
for the recognition of all races of men. Frequent meetings 
were held in the interest of the colored schools of the South, 
and contributions were made for their help. 



156 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

We welcomed William and Ellen Crafts on their return from 
their visit to Africa, and frequently heard Dr. Horace Bumstead 
and Mr. Booker T. Washington, and other teachers of the 
schools. We had honored members of the colored race among 
our speakers, and Mr. Washington was unanimously chosen an 
honorary member. 

I can never forget one important occasion when Mrs. Lily 
Chase Wyman read an admirable story of the lives of two 
heroic women, Sarah and Augelina Grimke. Among the vis- 
itors was the venerable Theodore Weld, the husband of Ange- 
lina, whose trembling lips bore testimony to the love and worth 
of his wife, and her nephew, Mr. Archibald Grimke, who told 
us the pathetic story of himself and his brother. The brother 
of these sisters had married a slave woman and brought up her 
children tenderly, but at his death they were claimed as slaves 
and subjected to all the misery of such a lot. They escaped, 
however, and several years afterward Mrs. Grimke recognized 
them at a Freedmen's school. The sisters adopted them as 
their nephews, and gave them a thorough and professional edu- 
cation. One is a successful lawyer, and the other a valued 
clergyman. The listeners were deeply moved by these speakers, 
and many a mother mourned that her children lost such an 
opportunity to hear the history of the great struggle of slavery 
which can never be repeated from such lips. 

Many benevolent institutions were inaugurated by the New 
England Women's Club. One was the Horticultural School for 
Women. This was first suggested to supply the need of out-door 
employment for women, many of whom suffered from sedentary 
in-door lives. A society was formed for this purpose, of which 
Abby W. May was president. A house and garden were hired 
in Newton and a greenhouse built for the purpose. Mr. 
Barnard was chosen for the principal of the school and several 
pupils entered on the work. A legacy was given to the school 
and the work was progressing, although rather slowly. An 



REFORMS. 157 

effort was then made to interest the legislature in order to 
obtain further means to perfect the school, when Bussey Institu- 
tion was opened to the public, and announced that classes in 
horticulture would be opened to women. This seemed to close 
the opening to further assistance from the legislature,^ and we 
supposed that the pupils would be transferred to this institu- 
tion. We were cordially interested in the new work, but it was 
carried on with very little vigor, Mr. Francis Parkmau was 
the professor of horticulture and gave his valuable instruction to 
a few pupils sittiug on boxes in the greenhouse. The society 
kept together and attempted to secure applicants to the school 
by offering free tuition to the classes. But there was no 
demand for instruction. The legacy was accumulating and the 
treasurer, Mr. Edward W. Hooper, felt that it should be applied 
to good uses. We petitioned the legislature to enable us to 
convey the property, then amounting to seven or eight thousand 
dollars, and at our request the money was given to the Mass- 
achusetts Institute of Technology for scholarships for women in 
kindred sciences. Since that time there has been more activity 
in the work at Bussey, and there is much greater general interest 
in horticulture for women. 

Another interest fostered by the Club was that of dress 
reform, but I was not specially engaged in it. 

When a young girl I first met the poet Whittier. I saw 
him at the house of my fi-iend, Mrs. Pitman, one of his dearest 
friends, but I had no special talk with him. When I had left 
the room he turned to his friend and said, as I went out, " See 
that girl under a Quaker bonnet and she 'd preach in six 
.months." 

I never had the advantage of a Quaker bonnet, but I was 
very much inclined to the preaching. I had no regular calling, 
but I was often asked to address the colored people at the South, 
and I preached to them with great delight. 

The first time I spoke in a regular church or meeting-house 



158 KEMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

ainoncf white people, was at a Methodist church in Boston. A 
certain minister of that sect had the wish of having women in 
his pulpit. He first invited Mrs. Howe, and she suggested ask- 
ing me to succeed her. I accepted the regular invitation 
readily, but a short time afterwards the reverend gentleman, 
probably alarmed by the reputation of free religion, wrote, ask- 
ing me to please " to put as much of the gospel as possible into 
my sermons." I thought the advice rather impertinent, but I 
took no notice of it. 

I chose for the subject of my discourse, "The Value and 
Sacredness of this Present Life." I was somewhat puzzled to 
find a text for the sermon, either in Old or New Testament, and 
I applied in vain to a well-known clergyman to aid me, but I 
did the best I could. 

The organ and the choir were placed directly behind me, and 
such a storm of melody almost drove everything out of my 
head. But I was in earnest and spoke of what I thought. I 
was rewarded by the interest of at least one hearer, a working- 
girl in a printing-office, who came to me and thanked me, say- 
ing, " I never prized my life before." The minister said to me, 
" How can you preach so earnestly without any gospel ? " I 
thought it was the right gospel for my young woman, at least. 
He then offered to pay my expenses, which consisted only of a 
car fare from Brookline. I graciously refused, but accepted a 
book, which did not convert me to his gospel. 

I spoke several times at the Sunday afternoon meetings of the 
Free Eeligious Association at Horticultural Hall, and have 
occasionally spoken at churches in various places. I never, how- 
ever, made a regular business of either lectures or sermons. I 
have spoken when I was asked to speak, and offered such as I 
had to give. 

I found the warmest and heartiest response from my colored 
hearers. They seemed utterly unconscious of differences of 
thought, but entered into a perfect sympathy of religious feel- 



EEFORMS. 159 

ing. This remarkable power of the negro nature, to enter into 
religious and spiritual life, beneath all the superstitions and 
extravagances of his expression has sustained and comforted him 
through all his sufferings, and when he has developed through a 
life of freedom and education, he will add a precious treasure to 
the religious life of our people. 

Another great movement in which I was most deeply in- 
terested, although I have not taken so active a part in its 
management, is the Women's Suffrage movement. While I be- 
lieved in making the full and direct claim for suffrage as a right, 
it yet seemed to me very important that women should be ready 
to meet its duties and obligations when they came, and so I have 
been especially interested in the plans for their education and 
employment. The movement for school suffrage which was begun 
by the New England Women's Club seemed to me timely and 
valuable, and I gladly accepted a post in the Massachusetts 
School Suff'rage Association. Its great work was in putting 
women on the school committees. The members of the com- 
mittee were chosen from the Club. Miss Crocker was one of 
our greatest successes ; and her admirable qualities as com- 
mittee woman and supervisor silenced all opposition to her. 
Miss Abby W. May was another very important woman. Slie 
was president of the School Suffrage Association, but ill-health 
frequently prevented her discharge of its duties.* Miss Lucia 
M. Peabody did good service on the School Committee for 
nine years. Before long an important difference arose among 
the women voters, which resulted in the formation of a party 
called " The Independent Women Voters." This was formed 
by the more decided partisans of temperance, who wished to 
introduce temperance text-books into the schools, and who were 
also extremely opposed to the Catholics. The Association 
always held the ground for entire freedom from sectarianism in 

* See memoirs of Miss Crocksr and Miss May. 



160 EEMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

connection with the schools, and while earnest for temperance, 
did not advocate some of the measures of their opponents. The 
excitement brought many women out to vote, and as time and 
experience has somewhat modified their extreme views, I think 
the party has done good service. 

For these reminiscences I have abstained generally from 
speaking, unless incidentally, of living persons, but I cannot 
refrain from a tribute of love and respect to our president, Julia 
Ward Howe, with whom I have been intimately and tenderly 
associated for over fifty years. At her advanced age her life is 
rounded, and she need not pass through the portals of the grave 
before she is assured of victory, and the laurels that await her. 
Still more the remembrance and love of her contemporaries 
attend her at every step of her path. I will not speak of her 
public virtues, for they are known before the world, but I must 
bear testimony to her great sympathy, to her tender love, and 
her simple courage and faithfulness. Graced by every social 
charm, she has yet found respect for the humble and helpful 
tenderness for the outcast. The entire truthfulness which is so 
seldom united with graciousness of manner, has won my respect 
through all circumstances. She has passed through many and 
varied experiences, and has won from all the sweetness of her 
life, happy in the children and grandchildren around her, and 
honored and blessed in the hopeful success of the causes she 
has so steadily pursued. 

Note. —The Boston Eadical Club should be mentioned. It was a more 
private society in sympathetic relation with the Free Religious Association, but 
was swamped by its slight organization and wide hospitality. The generous 
hostess welcomed everybody and many curious listeners came, not sympathetic 
with the original members. Instead of the calm deliberation of philosophies, the 
advocates of special reform monopolized the discussions, and personal disputes 
were not unknown. Reporters were finally allowed and they prevented free 
expression, in consequence of which Mr. Emerson ceased to attend. It became a 
brilliant literary entertainment, but had no lasting influence. 



(Margaret S. Cheney. 

Photogravure by John Andrew and Son. 
From an ambrotype, i860. 



CONCLUSION. 161 



CHAPTER XL 

CONCLUSION. 

" And with the lust of their historie 
Sometime I draw into Memorie 
How Sorrow may not ever last 
And so Hope cometh in at last." 

GOWER. 

"VTEAELY my whole life has been contained within the nine- 
teenth century, for in the morning of the twentieth came a 
crisis in my physical condition which gave me paus,e, and bid me 
look forward to tlie inevitable change which must end this mor- 
tal career, even while its postponement may give a period of 
calm retrospection of the life that had gone before. I look 
therefore upon the little meagre leavings that I have gleaned 
out of the rich and varied past which has been granted me, and 
seek for them an indication of the meaning of the events, the 
feelings, and the thoughts which make up the great whole into 
which every private experience is weaving its special part. 

Every age is bound closely to its predecessor and its successor, 
and we see clearly in history the forerunners of our own times, 
and we find examples of the highest spiritual thinkers, and 
greatest heroes of the soul, which still remain to us pre- 
served in legend or tradition, to serve us as the instructors 
and prototypes of the future. 

We can however pause at a station which marks our progress 

directly from the lower beginnings of life to its highest stages, 

and yet we hardly see a spiral as life winds upwards, but we 

learn only a slight upward tread in a circle so large that we can 

11 



162 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

hardly believe in its uprise. In a great climax of history, or in 
the exceptional power of a world hero, we mark the ages which 
are slowly building up the great whole, which has been dimly 
foreseen. 

A century is but a conventional limit of time, and yet its 
hundred years give us a sufficient space to indicate a purpose 
and plan, and as the years have passed on, from my own little 
outlook I seem to see one unifying characteristic in the century 
which is past. 

I regard the tendency of this century with great admiration, 
because amid all the jangle and retrograde movements, there 
seems to me a real course of progress, which distinctly appears 
on the whole, however marred in details. 

It is the century of Emancipation long prepared for. 

I will not try to record every movement, but let me remem- 
ber what tha century has brought to us. 

We received a precious legacy from the previous years, a 
mighty hope for the emancipation of religion. Savonarola and 
Luther and Wicliffe and Huss, and all the martyrs of France 
and England gave us the inspiring hope and faith in the future 
freedom of religion ; yet so often the fires and the scaffolds were 
raised again and again, and even in our own land, and almost 
in our own time, man's thought was not free from the bigot's 
control. But we can see in this century at least a clear fore- 
knowledge and certainty of the emancipation of religion. 
Physical tyranny is over, and thought is now free from authori- 
tative constraint. 

Freedom of thought is won in the highest realm, and out of it 
has come, not separation and antagonism, but a wide and cordial 
sympathy. 

Thus I believe emancipation in religion is substantially won, 
in spite of the agonizing throes of dying superstitions and obso- 
lete tyrannies. We have through this century and through all 
centuries been working for this emancipation and union, and 



I 



CONCLUSION. 163 

now we are ready to welcome the word of the new century in 
reconstruction, or the building up of religion itself, not by an 
eclecticism which breaks down peculiarities and individualities, 
but by a deeper insight into the roots of all natural growths, 
which will find in them the same truths which have taken 
different forms in various minds. 

As witness of this striking fact is the new alliance with the 
great religions of the East, from whose source come the fountains 
of our later life. The Hindoos have learned of Christianity, not as 
of outward allegiance to a different church, but as comprehend- 
ing the same spirit which they recognize as revealed from tlie 
great central source. 

Tiie sympathy of religions, a phrase made familiar by the 
happy thought of Colonel Higginson, has called forth a general 
response from many minds ready for it. Every religion rests 
on a deep basis of truth, but in the varied experience of life 
error and falsehood become inevitably mingled with it, and we 
need constant recurrence to first principles. 

In this freedom and mutual recognition which so markedly 
indicates the emancipation we have even now, we see a striking 
forecast of the promise of reconstruction and harmonious union 
of different faiths, which is the desire of the incoming century. 
The eager reception of the Eastern religions by Western scholars, 
and even by receptive and intelligent laymen, is a marked 
feature of our own times. The studies by Mr. Janes in his 
conferences, and by the school at Greenacre, sliow a real hospi- 
tality to, and earnest interest in other faiths. Whether there 
will arise a more active combat before the final reunion, I can- 
not say, but let us rejoice in the ultimate prospect, and be sure 
that if a conflict is to come, it will be in the interest of truth 
and reconciliation. 

I like to speak of Mozoomdar as a genuine forerunner of the 
deeper religion, the prophet who comes to the Christian Church 
not with outward acceptance, but with the deep spirituality of 



164 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

the Hindoo, and with the reverent tenderness of his love for 
Jesus. And when I heard him in the Orthodox church in Hart- 
ford, where the pastor at his side was melted into tears, as he 
listened to the Hindoo, speaking of Jesus as the greatest and 
beloved Son of man, I felt that the emancipation was already 
prepared and the union at hand. 

This freedom, this union will come by no shallow thought or 
excited emotion ; long, painful struggles, hard, earnest work will 
have to be borne before the new ground is fully conquered. This 
has been the joy of the new day. And I am grateful that I 
have lived in my century which has been the birthplace of a 
new life in the great stream of progress which has been flowing 
on from the dawn of time. 

In the Bramo Somaj we welcomed a society as free as we can 
imagine on our own shores, and yet in harmony with the best 
Christian thought. 

Closely allied to the great emancipation of this age is tlie 
freedom of science, the opening eyes of matter. 

Science is emancipated from its thraldom to tradition and un- 
belief. Many a religious believer feared science was darkened 
and wandering in its own dazzle of light, and was ready to 
wreck the fairest hopes of humanity. But the true scientist has 
not faltered in his course, until now the light is streaming from 
matter itself, and mingling with the wider life of religion, until 
science has recognized spirit and matter once more united in a 
fruitful union, and we recognize the offspring as " Good." 

The spiritual imagination will prophesy of the meaning of the 
universe, while calm reason slowly and surely builds up by 
gradual steps to the same great heights. 

As the great philosophers of antiquity dimly shadowed fortli 
the principles of Evolution, so the physical laws of continuity 
and preservation reach up to the spiritual meaning of all life, 
and we find that the resurrection comes not from a dying Saviour 
alone, but is the whole process and consummation of the life of 



11 



CONCLUSION. 165 

humanity, as the final fruit of the long series of birth, death, and 
reproduction. 

And to come to more immediate good for humanity, I believe 
that the nineteenth century, with its legacy of freedom from the 
terrible revolutions of the last period, is a grand prophecy of the 
emancipation of peace. 

Peace is not only a negative rest, but a harmonious union. 
We find a prophetic feeling over the whole earth, — a faith in an 
active progress of humanity faintly shadowed in the hope of a 
millennium on earth, or a heaven in a future stage. 

There is evidence in the century that the period of war 
is coming to an end, not soon or easily, but by its very vio- 
lence is to become the forerunner of the living, growing fruitful 
peace. 

The whole meaning and blessing of warfare must be learned 
before there comes a stable peace ! 

The struggle of nature must be recognized and understood. 

It is present in every department of the animal and vegetable 
kingdom. The fungus on our trees and the blight on every 
flower, the insects that depredate our fields, the parasites that 
prey upon the useful bees, tlie mischievous mosquito which 
brings contagion and death, the meanest of all creatures are yet 
most powerful and engaged in the closest war. Who shudders 
now at the approach of the lion or the tiger? — but all turn pale 
at the mention of bacillus or microbe ! 

Yet each is interlinked with every other, and some scientists 
tell us that were the sparrow or the thrush or the busy bee 
banished from the earth the world would become a desert. 

War has gone through all the ages of humanity, and it has 
brought forth heroism and nobility. 

There has always been a longing and a prophecy of peace. 
Some Buddhist will not violate the life of the meanest animal, 
the saint feeds the starving tiger ; Jesus who came with a sword 
yet preaches a gospel of peace and good-will for all the earth ; 



166 KEMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

modern Quakers have tried to build a nation of peace amid wild 
savages. 

But can we say that this past century will promise the begin- 
ning of an era of peace? Shall the lion and lamb lie down 
together, and we learn no more of war in all the holy moun- 
tain ? In these very last days of the century have we not 
known the cruel wars of Spain and Cuba ; the terrible contests 
with the Philippines and the Boers ; the desolating massacres 
of China, and the agonies of Armenia ? In every little country 
the same struggles are repeated, until we feel that we are still 
forever to go over the dismal story. 

More especially terrible because in the very midst of our own 
life have we passed through the most fearful of all, the great 
Civil War which is still echoing through the land, while many 
believe that all has been in vain. But it requires but little 
observation to recognize the blessing which has come from these 
struggles, and it is in the very violent bitterness of the old prej- 
udice which rages against the rising and successful race, that 
we see the sure power which secures for the negro the honor- 
able citizenship of America. And I believe that it is by the 
thorough union of these races, and of other races, that American 
citizenship will become welded into a higher country and a 
nobler manhood. By every tie they must be blended into union ; 
an alien people must ever be a danger to the State. 

And with all the present horrors, how different is the warfare 
of this age, when we compare it with the terrible record of 
the past. Even that record may have the justification of the 
former time, for we have the history of noble heroisms as well 
as of fiendish atrocities, but now the nurse and the teacher are 
following the conquering squadrons, instead of leaving only 
hatred and desolation in their track. 

I believe that by the wise and generous provisions of the 
Northern schools a better education is at the command of earnest 
colored men at such places as Hampton School, or Fiske Uni- 



CONCLUSION. 167 

versity, or Kittrell, or Atlanta, than can be gained by the 
laboring classes of the whites in many sections ; and this fact is 
recognized and used as a stimulus to the greatly needed improve- 
ment of the public schools of the South. And in perfect 
harmony with this high education the noble institution at 
Tuskeo-ee is a monument of broad freedom on a basis of indus- 
trial progress. From this foundation of simple, honest, and 
intelligent labor supplemented by the higher education which 
opens the career to talent, come the leaders of the race who 
ah'eady show themselves in literature, in professional work, and 
in the business of economy, and in the gradual improvement of 
all the community. Nor must we lose sight of the bravery and 
nobility which have been conspicuous in war, which commands 
respect when other merits are not so easily appreciated. 

I cannot refrain from a grateful tribute to the position of the 
oldest college in America. Not only does Harvard welcome the 
colored fellow-citizens to its academic privileges, but the accom- 
plished president welcomes to social enjoyments, and as the 
same influences flow down to all the sources of education, 
the result will not be wanting in the whole community. And 
with the same spirit in our brave young president, we may hope 
for security for welfare, and progress for America. 

The most important proof of the progress which is shown on 
all classes of the people is in the number and quality of indi- 
viduals which have proved their rights to respect in every walk 
of life. The intelligent fanner, the devoted nurse, the skilled 
physician, the capable lawyer, the learned and skilful teacher, 
as well as the popular author, and the useful and honored clergy- 
man, may all be seen in the ranks of colored men, not as single 
exceptions, but in large groups constantly extended ; and as 
surely as water when freed will rise to its level, will intelligence, 
character, and success rise to the highest position in life. 

As the South rises up from the paralyzing inHueuces of slavery, 
so the negro race will rise with it, as two elm trees may stand 



168 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

apart in tlieir small beginuiugs, but as they grow up more per- 
fectly into the upper air, their branches blend and form a 
perfect arch. 

The emancipation of women has specially marked the nine- 
teenth century. It is the most important and far-reaching 
reform of the world. I do not mean by this alone the extension 
of suffrage to women, which is a partial and outward mark of 
emancipation, but the far deeper principle of freedom which 
reaches to heart and mind. The suffrage movement takes its 
place as foremost in representing other claims behind it, but 
even the anti-suffragists make an important contribution to the 
development of women. 

The claim of woman is to the individual ; she is not the 
counterpart of man, or the subject of his will or happiness. 
How truly the relation of one to the other is of supreme 
importance. 

I remember that Charles K. Whipple claimed the emancipa- 
tion of woman as only second in importance to freedom in 
religion. It is of equal and correlative importance. Woman 
must stand in immediate relation to the Universal Being, or she 
cannot have the moral duty to serve the truth and defend the 
right. This is the basis of all freedom. Her own soul must be 
the highest arbiter and responsibility in her own dictates of 
duty. 

Still, I do not claim that the identity of sexes is established, 
or still less that I believe in the superiority of woman. There 
yet remains a great problem to be solved ; it is hardly intelli- 
gently stated, but it will become clearer only as the evident 
wrongs are eliminated, and both sexes will develop in freedom 
and finally into perfect harmony. 

Great minds have striven in vain to trace the radical differ- 
ences of sex, and the resulting natures of woman's life. 

Theodore Parker maintained that " There is no sex in 
souls," but Coleridge said, "A man who does not know that 



CONCLUSION. 169 

there is a sex in souls, has not ever seen a wife, or sister, or 
mother." 

The greatest thinker of our time has embalmed in sacred 
verse the highest expression, whose meaning has not been yet 
exhausted, when at the close of his life he wrote : " Das ewi"- 
weiblichezieht uns hinan ; ''' and thus goes before us a light 
over the path of emancipation. The long and varied way of 
history has wavered again and again from the highest glorifica- 
tion to the lowest depth of degradation. 

We never lose tlie deep reverence of Jesus or the spiritual 
worship of Beatrice. Great prophets of humanity have kept 
alive through the ages the hopes and truths of womanhood, that 
we may rejoice in their practical fruition of to-day. 

But even amid the promise of radical and universal emanci- 
pation how slow is the progress to which the new century is 
vowed ! How terrible are the evils yet to be surmounted ! 

Most fearful of all is the wrong against woman, and the sin 
of man ; which seems to be rooted in the ages, and to-day casts 
its poisonous slime over all countries, and all societies, and even 
shatters the sacredness of marriage itself. 

I honor unspeakably the brave " Abolitionists," who nobly 
and persistently, and not wholly in vain, are striving against 
this monster. 

They inherit the mantle of the heroes of anti-slavery. I can 
name only one, but among the many heroic and sainted women, 
first of all I rejoice in having seen the beautiful face of 
Josephine Butler, who with her husband standing faithfully 
by her, has led the contest against evil, and has hereafter 
consecrated her lonely life of widowhood, like Saint Ann, 
in the temple of humanity. God bless her and all the 
brotherhood and sisterhood who are working for this great 
redemption. 

And greatly must we rejoice in the noble stand of Eoosevelt 
in the proclamation to the Philippine army. When the Chris- 



170 KEMINISGENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

tian warrior like the prophet of old, shall become pure and 
stainless, the curse of war will itself pass away. 

And now there remains to us from tlie nineteenth century 
the great struggle for freedom, which is a direct fulfilment of 
the work of the past century which has so amply redeemed 
us from chattel slavery. In spite of lingering remains among 
savage nations, I believe tliat chattel slavery is forever 
abolished. 

It is now not the simple question of slavery, of tyranny 
and submission, it is the problem of labor and social economy. 
There is a constant intermingling of interests and changes of 
persons and positions. The ancient wrongs reappear in the 
face of new rights, and it is oidy by constant education of 
all classes, and adjustment by good feelings and right think- 
ing, that a stable condition will be secured. 

I cannot go into the discussion of means, but if I have the 
prophetic eye of old age, I seem to see that there is a clearer 
light of wisdom on both sides, that will bring out the meaning 
of union and reconciliation between the apparently conflicting 
interests. If the strife is liotter, as it seems to be even now, 
I think that the boiling caldron is cleansing, and there will 
be a reconstruction of labor, and a utilization of capital for the 
benefit of humanity which will be begun, at least, in this 
dawning century. With that reconstruction, what miracles of 
production, and of economic happiness for the race may we 
not belieVe in ? 

In Goethe's great educational novel, if we can call such a 
treasure of wisdom by that name, he gives to the pupils the 
three great reverences. 

They stand us well in all situations in life. First, is the 
respect for what is above us. Long ages have recognized this 
duty, and perhaps it has needed all times, and the many 
changing circumstances to educate humanity into this recog- 
nition of the high and noble, since from it Goethe learns to 



CONCLUSION. 171 

prize aud honor the love of God, and finds also the feeling for 
parents and ancestors. 

All religions put the emphasis on this great duty. 

But Goethe only begins here, and gives to his pupil the 
charge to reverence what is beneath him, and with joyful 
looks he greets the earth and the common days of work and 
joy. But also come sad days and many troubles. The pupil 
is not held long in this att-itude, but it seems a hard lesson in 
life to learn the duty and reverence to those beneath us. 

We begin now even to claim the emancipation and the free- 
dom and rights for the range of animal and vegetable beings, 
for the noble horse, the faithful dog, the enchanting birds, 
the mysterious and wise bees, and the myriad of insects which 
gladden and alas ! at the same time poison the air. Do we not 
go a step farther and fancy that the birch trees laugh with joy 
in the summer sun, that the water-lily loves the brooks and 
faints away in the dry sand, and all have a certain right to 
live ? 

The prophetic .worship of various animals, the sacred cow 
of the Brahmin,, the watchful care of robins, the tender regards 
for domestic animals, the recognition of a living soul, and an 
immortal future claimed for the lower races, are symptoms of 
the feeling of unity with the whole creation which is dimly 
recognized by man. 

A most remarkable i^istance of this feeling appears in a story 
of the elder Booth. 

The great tragedian collected a large number of birds, whom 
he had saved from the murderous hands of street boys, and 
he asked a clergyman to perform a funeral service. On seeing 
the lifeless bodies of the birds, the clergyman refused to make 
the prayer, esteeming it as an insult to the sacred service. I 
have wondered why, since Jesus had taught us that God cared 
for every sparrow, — why should not a prayer be offered in 
remembrance of even these sacred dead ? 



172 REMINISCENCES OF EDNAH DOW CHENEY. 

The doctrine of Evolution has taught us that man is only at 
the head of a long series of slowly developed beings, and does 
not it command of us to consider our poor relations or our 
revered progenitors ? 

Is there not a varied meaning in the facts of the present 
century, which I hope will lead us into clearer and kinder 
relations of the whole series of creation ? 

Instead of passing quickly through the second stage of rever- 
ence for what is beneath us, as Goethe taught his pupils, there 
seems a long lesson to learn, and yet we are to come in this 
new century into the last great reverence for all equals. The 
pupils finally look out straight and boldly to all the world. 
How much is implied in this position ! but Goethe himself 
does not follow out the consequences. 

" We cannot add anything farther," he closes, but Wilhelm 
answers, " Es leuchtet mir ein." 

But if we can come to the close of one century, and look so 
gratefully and proudly over the results of emancipation, cannot 
we look forward with confident hope for the greater work of 
reconstruction, which has already begun, and which will go on 
through the ages ? 

" One accent of the Holy Ghost 
The heedless workl has never lost." 

How will the grand symphony resound in the days to come ! — 

" I am no link of thy great chain, 
But all my company is a weed. 
Lord, place me in thy Consort ; give me one strain 
To my poor weed." 



APPENDIX. 



APPENDIX. 



PRAYER. 

At first I prayed for sight ; 

Could I but see the way, 
How gladly would I walk 

To everlasting day. 
I asked the world's deep law 

Before my eyes to ope, 
And let me see my prayers fulfilled, 

And realized, my hope ; 
But God was kinder than my prayer. 

And mystery veiled me everywhere. 

And next I prayed for strength 

That I might tread the road, 
With firm unfaltering pace. 

To heaven's serene abode. 
That I might never know 

A faltering, failing heart ; 
But manfully go on 

And reach the highest part. 
But God was kinder than my prayer, 

And weakness checked me everywhere. 

And then I asked for faith ; 

Could I but trust my God, 
I 'd live in heavenly peace 

Though foes were all abroad. 



176 APPENDIX. 



His light thus shining round, 

No faltering should I know ; 
And faith in heaven above 

Would make a heaven below ; 
But God was kinder than my prayer, 

And doubts beset me everywhere. 

And now I pray for love. 

Deep love to God and man ; 
A love that will not fail, 

However dark His plan ; 
That sees all life in Him, 

Rejoicing in His power ; 
And faithful, though the darkest clouds 

Of gloom and doubt may lower. 
And God was kinder than my prayer, 

Love filled and blessed me everywhere. 

July 16, 1850. 

SONG. 

Spring time came to me, 

With thee, with thee. 
Oh, then ! how lovingly 

Came it to me ! 

Less in the sunny sky, 

Than in thy eyes, 
Less in the flowering earth 

Spring beauty lies. 

Spring music 's not the brook 

Murmuring along, 
But thy sweet heart of love 

Breathing its song. 

Ever, beloved, then 

Keep me with thee ; 

So shall it ever be 

Soring time with me ! 

April 30, 1851. 



BEGGAR AT THE GATE. 177 

"BEGGAR AT THE GATE CALLED BEAUTIFUL." 

A beggar at the gate called Beautiful am I, 
Asking an alius of Earth and Sea and Sky, 
From night till morn I sit, nor ever lose 
My hope, nor aught doth me refuse. 

The Earth brings flowers, in my lap she throws, 
Batlied with fresh dew, the Cowslip and the Rose, 
Wreathes me with Lilies and the Violet, 
Nor e'er her wealth of beauty hath denied me yet. 

The Sea brings all her treasures, wreathed foam 
And dancing spray each with their tribute come ; 
The tinted shell, the many-colored weed. 
All bring their beauty to supply my need. 

And the blue sky ! I wake at early dawn 
To drink the beauty of the blushing morn. 
And mid the splendor of the noonday light 
Come cloud-like angels soft to bless my longing sight. 

And Night, dear Night, to me her gracious boon, 
Of tender beauty is the silvery moon. 
The bright Aurora and the shooting star 
And the fixed lights all glorious still and far. 

And yet nor morn, nor night, winter nor dewy spring, 

The choicest treasures to the beggar bring, 

But oft in deeper longing do I cry 

And beg the tender glance of one dear loving eye. 

Then comes a friend who knows not what he brings, 
Nor gold nor silver in my lap he flings, 
But health and life are with his presence come, 
He sees my need and takes me to his home. 

. January 16, 1852. 



12 



178 APPENDIX. 



WAITING HELP. 

The question ivas asked, " To ivhom do Free Religionists pray ? " 
The answer was : " To whoever they believe ivlll help them^ 

Whate'er the Name, whate'er the Power, 
That helped me in my bitter himr, 

I know there came a Strength not mine, 

A Peace not Earthly but Divine. 

That Peace, that Strength, I know it waits ' 
For every heart that opes its gates, 

To let the Gracious Presence in ; 

And with its help new life begin. 

So waits the morning in the skies, 
Until the sleeper opes his eyes ; 

So breaks the Sea on every sliore, 

The sick and weary to restore. 

Each lovely flower, each busy bee. 
Says, " Only come, I '11 give to thee ; " 
The North Star waited, aeons back, 
To guide the slave on Freedom's track. 

Each hero soul, each martyr heart, 

In thy deep pain has born its part ; 
And every triumph in the skies 
Has helped my unfledged soul to rise. 

The Over-soul, the All, the Law, 
The God whom mortal eyes ne'er saw. 
And yet whose presence all things knew, 
'T was that helped me and will help you. 



SHALL BE SATISFIED. 179 



I SHALL BE SATISFIED WHEN I AWAKE W^TH 
THY LIKENESS. 

"Waken in Thy likeness," meet Thee face to face, 
Know tlie sweet unfoldings of Thy perfect Jove,' 
All the wondrous meaning of Thy wisdom tracJ, 
All the perfect justice of Thine order prove. 

« Waken in Thy likeness," be what Thou hast willed, 
Know the sweet communion hearts can meet in Thee, 
All Earth's restless passions, all its longings stilled, 
All Times blended in Eternity. 

"Waken in Thy likeness," knowing all Thy truth 
Loving all Thy children, living in Thy breath, 
Blossoming forever in the joy of Youth. 
Break thy peaceful slumber, waken me, Death ! " 

1895. 



180 APPENDIX, 

TEANSCENDENTALISM. 

A Lecture. 

The spiritual wave that passed over New England between forty and 
fifty years ago, and whose pulsations may still be felt in the greater 
New England which is planted along the banks of the Mississippi, or 
on the margins of the Great Lakes, and on the shores of the Pacific 
Ocean, was no spasmodic convulsion of the spiritual life, but a slight 
acceleration of the never ceasing flow of intellectual tides constantly 
appearing in the history of thought. It was a springtide indeed, 
when sun and moon, the inspiration of the Infinite, and the love of 
humanity, worked together. 

Transcendentalism was no child of unknown parentage, but was the 
heir of all the ages, and like the true manna " had the taste of all in 
it ; " the finest flavor of every field from which it was gathered. Yet 
it had here in New England its own peculiar aroma, undoubtedly 
derived from the new soil and climate in which it sprang up. As 
plants from a foreign land often develop into fresh richness and 
beauty in a new field, not alone because of the virgin soil and softer 
airs, but also because they are out of reach of their old enemies who 
have preyed upon them heretofore, but have not yet tracked their way 
across the ocean, so the spiritual seeds sown and resown in the older 
countries had a freer chance here, where their old enemies of bigotry 
and proscription, of tradition and routine, had not the chance to suck 
the nourishing sap out of their young shoots. 

A remarkable precursor of Transcendentalism appeared in New 
England in the person of Anne Hutchinson, whose influence upon the 
future intellectual and spiritual growth of New England, especially 
through its women, cannot easily be thoroughly weighed. She came 
to Boston in 1634 and gathered the women about her, to listen to the 
truth as it filled her soul. She preached tlie value of the inward 
witness of the spirit over outward authority, with* a power and a beauty 
which not only charmed her immediate hearers, but exercised a great 
influence over many of the best minds in the colony. So powerful 
was her thought that it aroused the opposition of the rulers, who 
banished her from the colony. Her moral fame is unsullied, but her 
history was tragical, and New England women in the enjoyment of 



TRANSCENDENTALISM. 181 

their own privileges now, should never forget what they owe to the 
tirst martyr in New EogiaTid to freedom of thought and speech. 

In some degree Transcendentalism was not alone a fresh expression 
of spiritual life, but was a protest against a false or rather an extreme 
direction, a return of the tide which had ebbed so far that it threatened 
to leave the shores dry and sunburned. 

I regard the fifty years previous to the time of which I am speak- 
ing, the period of the French Revolution, of Rousseau, of Voltaire, of 
Thomas Paine, and Dr. Franklin, as the most important and baneficent 
time in modern history ; for, as Theodore Parker said, " How many 
falsehoods by which man had been defrauded of his birthright, 
robbed, beaten, trampled on, were extinguished by that Transcendental 
French Revolution." This uprising of life laid the foundation for 
those grand movements for the emancipation of mankind from both 
j)hysical and intellectual slavery, which even more than its wonderful 
scientific achievements will make the glory of the great century which 
is just closing. Yet it was an extreme movement, which producing 
great material results, did not always clearly take due account of, nor 
reveal the spiritual forces which were working beneath them. 

In philosophy this was a time of materialism, or at least sensa- 
tionalism, popularly represented by Locke and his school, with their 
favorite illustration of the mind as a blank sheet of paper, which pas- 
sively received impressions from without. 

The Unitarian movement in its theological protest was still largely 
dominated by this philosophy, which made it so distasteful to such men 
as Coleridge, who were more imaginative and spiritual, and while it 
did a great good in clearing both the intellectual and moral sense, it 
did not wholly satisfy the cravings of poetic and emotional natures. 
Yet it was largely out of this Unitarian movement, which gave so 
much freedom for thouglit and life, that the apostles of Transcen- 
dentalism came. Emerson, Hedge, Dwight, Parker, Jones Very, 
W, H. Channing, and others, had been educated for the Unitarian 
ministry, but had found more new wine than tliey could pour into the 
old bottles. 

Transcendentalism did not hold the position of negative protest 
only, but boldly made the greatest of affirmations, and' announced as 
its basis the great truth of religion, the immediate conscious relation 
of the soul of man to the living principle of the Universe. Mr. 
Parker, in his essay in "The Dial," states this very fully. 



182 APPENDIX. 

It declared that the inind of man is not a mere blank receptacle 
of notions received through the senses, but is a vital force in which is 
the germ and potency of all thought, which can only be developed 
from the interior, not from without. Tliey declared that certain ideas 
were of spontaneous growth in the mind, althougli I need not say that 
tliey had endless difficulty to decide exactly what those ideas are. 
You will see how readily this prepared the mind for acceptance of the 
great scientific truth of Evolution, and how later it came into full 
relation with science. In spite of its great truth, which reappears 
again and again in every form of religion, this doctrine, if held with- 
out due correction and limitation by reference to all the facts of life, 
and pushed to its ultimate results without regard to practical con- 
siderations, is especially liable to lead to extravagance and absurdity 
in manners and life. 

It takes powerful hold on the imagination and sensibilities, and is 
apt to scorn all corrections of reason and experience, and even, when 
seized upon by impure natures, to throw away moral restraint, and 
riot in sensual indulgence. 

Such a charge cannot (unless in the rarest cases) be brought 
against the Transcendentalism of New England, which was grafted 
on so wholesome a stock of rigid morality and sound common-sense, 
that it lighted and warmed the conscience instead of perverting it. 
And yet I think we may find its aberrations in many theories of life 
and education which have prevailed in our community. It is always 
easy to mistake impulse for inspiration, and in refusing arbitrary 
restraint to give the reins to fancy instead of reason. The serious 
struggle for humanity in the person of the slave, which so soon drew 
all earnest minds and true hearts into its army, saved the votaries of 
Idealism from becoming lost in mazes of speculation, or dreams of 
beauty. Those who have been foremost in accepting its doctuines, 
and applying them tb the enlargement of thought and the eleva- 
tion of the soul, Emerson, Alcott, Parker, W. H. Channing, James 
Freeman Clarke, Margaret Fuller, E. P. Peabody, etc., became earnest 
workers in the great struggle of humanity in various ways, and it was 
the same idea, the supremacy of the eternal right over the statutory 
law, that roused the people against tlie Fugitive Slave Law, and the 
abominable compromises of the central government, and paved the 
way for the heroic uprising of the war. 

It is almost impossible to overrate the obligation of our times to 



TRANSCENDENTALISM. 183 

the Abolition movement, taken up as it was by Garrison on the liigh 
ground of right and duty. The doctrine of compromises always finds 
ready advocates, and we must have the straight line of right always 
in mind, however beautifully we may round it out with love and 
grace. Puritanism planted this idea firmly on New England soil, 
and Abolitionism was its first fruit after the sun had svveetened and 
ripened it. 

The Transcendentalists were friendly to reform, even when its man- 
ifestations jarred on their sense of harmony and beauty, and Heaven 
knows that was often enougli. Even Hedge, the most literary and 
fastidious of their critics, in writing of the " Art of Life," said : " On 
this ground I am disposed to rejoice in those radical movements 
which are everywhere springing up in the discontented spirits and 
misguided efforts of modern reform. Perfectionism, Grahamism, 
Xonresistance, and all the forms of ultraism, blind and headlong as 
they seem, have yet meaning which, if it cannot command assent, 
must at least preclude contempt. They are the gropings of men who 
have waked too soon, while the new day still tarries in the east." 

The perfect freedom of this movement, fettered by no attempt at 
organization, and tin; variety of character in the men who united in 
it, saved them from any extreme of dogmatism, and gave richness 
and fulness to their expression. Two men, for instance, more un- 
like in their methods of study and thought than William Henry 
Channiiig and Frederick Hedge could hardly be met with, and yet 
they found in the Transcendental ranks scope for their own develop- 
ment, and help from each other's work. 

The practical attempts at association, such as Brook Farm, clearly 
brought out these differences of character and thought. George 
Kipley, W. H. Channing, and J. S. Dwight were very earnest and full 
of hope in association, while Emerson, Hedge, Miss Peabody, and 
Miss Fuller, while interested in a movement so sincere, always criti- 
cised the basis and methods of the plan, and Cranch found ample 
subject for caricature in the picturesque life of the members. Mrs. 
Ripley at the wash-tub, Hawthorne tending his cows, afforded con- 
trasts strong enough to delight the satirist. 

It was impossible for any company to hold the Transcendental doc- 
trines without greatly valuing Art, which always represents the Ideal ; 
and accordingly we find the pages of " The Dial," the organ for four 
years of these thinkers, filled with the deepest thoughts on Art. The 



184 APPENDIX. 

opportunities for the study of Art were very small, but we had a great 
living genius among us whom (whatever criticisms they may feel 
obliged to make of his actual achievements) all must recognize as 
working in the spirit of the highest Art. AUstou did not fully belong 
to the company of Transcendentalists, for the old traditions of the 
church clung closely about him, and there was an aristocratic flavor 
in his feelings and manners; but still in his thought and philosophy 
he was very closely in sympathy with them, for his art was entirely 
ideal, as free from realism as that of any true lover of nature could 
be. He was the favorite artist of Boston, and in " The Dial " we find 
more than one poem addressed to him and liis ])ictures. 

But this company was not a mutual admiration society, but held 
closer to truth tlian to each other. Margaret Fuller wrote a very dis- 
criminating criticism of Allston's novel, " Monaldi," in which, while 
she did full justice to its great beauties, she pointed out its defects as 
a true picture of character. The same frank criticism was applied to 
his pictures. Although Margaret Fuller's study of Art was tliou con- 
fined to a narrow range, yet after forty years I still find her criticisms 
extremely just and broad. She may overrate the comparative value 
of her subject, since it is the best she has ever seen, but she never 
fails to judge it by high ideal standards and to develop the meaning 
of the artist. Her article on the Allston Exhibition is very interest- 
ing, not only for its frank estimate of his especial work, but for its 
statement of the position of the American artist at that time. She 
particularly admires his landscapes, and to those who have known 
nothing but the realistic landscape of later days, it is worth while 
to study these pictures with her words in mind. She says : " From 
time to time I have seen other of these pictures, and they have 
always been to me sweet silvery music, rising by its clear tone to be 
heard above the din of life, long forest glades glimmering with golden 
light, longingly eyed from the window of some crowded drawing- 
room." Sarah F. Clarke said of one of Allston's pictures : *' It seemed 
to be the only gentleman in the collection." Tribute is also paid to 
the famous painters aud sculptors of Italy ; but in those days they 
were rather known to us by the echo of the impression they had 
made on the world, as we know of the poetry of Sappho, than by any 
real acquaintance with their works. 

Remember that all this was before the days of the photograph, 
and that there was hardly more than one place in Boston where a good 



TEANSCENDENTALISM. 185 

engraving could be purchased ; yet how we loved and studied every- 
thing tliat could be seen, especially the noble casts from the Greek, 
and Michael Angelo's " Day and Night " in the Athenseum. Tran- 
scendentalism is the philosophy of Ideal Art, which places no value 
on the material save as revealing the inward life. As Michael Angelo 
says, " Which, since they image Thee, alone I love." 

It was a dreary transitional time in Art, and the American group of 
artists studied either the old masters in Italy or the Academic school 
in England. 

I think Michael Angelo was the great source of artistic inspiration 
and worship to the Transcendentalists. He is more often referred to 
than any other modern artist, while they still cling loyally to the 
Greek sculpture. 

They hardly recognized the new era in Art which was already open- 
ing, and which, through excessive tendencies in the direction of realism, 
was to bring such new power and freedom into the decadent schools 
of Art. 

Historical pictures were the ambition of tlie English school, and 
portraiture and landscape were considered as far inferior branches, 
although the portraits of Reynolds, and the landscapes of Gainsbor- 
ough had won a lasting appreciation far beyond the ambitious repre- 
sentations of lieroes and battles by the Academicians. 

The recognition of the modern school was coming through the 
interest in all the productions of the German mind, and even the 
work of the dry Diisseldorf school was warmly welcomed in this 
country. The sentimental tenderness of Ary Scheffer and the mys- 
ticism of Overbeck were interesting, and when the true apostle of 
humanity appeared in Jean Fran9i)is Millet, America was ready 
to welcome him. But this was a little laler (in 1854) than the 
flowering time of Transcendentalism. Other influences had mingled 
its pollen and ripened its fruit. 

But music was the art that especially appealed to the spiritual life, 
and this group of lovers of thought gave that impulse to the culture 
and enjoyment of the highest music, especially German instrumental 
music, which has distinguished Boston ever since. 

In 1844 Margaret Fuller writes, " Music is the great art of the 
time. Its dominion is constantly widening, its powers are more 
profoundly recognized. In the forms it has already evolved, it is 
equal to representing any subject, can address the entire range of 



186 APPENDIX. 

thoughts and emotions. These forms have not yet attained their 
completeness, and already we discern many others hovering in the 
vast distances of the Tone World." 

How fully has the modern medley of composers justified this 
prediction. Out of them will arise, from the full action of natural 
selection, the finished art which will equal the sculpture of the 
Greeks and the forms of the Sistine Chapel. 

In 1840 John S. Dwight, in writing of the concerts of the past 
winter, ventures to hope " to hear one day the ' Sinfonia Eroica ' and 
the ' Pastorale ' of Beethoven." His hope has been amply fulfilled. 
For fifty years, Boston has listened to these symphonies with un- 
diminished rapture, and only a few winters ago the old critic was 
called from his retirement to give his weekly verdict on the perform- 
ances of the Symphony orcliestra, and he did it in the same spirit 
of ideal interpretation and keen hut appreciative criticism that dis- 
tinguisiied his early work. 

Beethoven's symphonies were first performed in Boston about the 
year 1844 in the old Odeon, and while I have since heard them played 
Ity the noblest orchestra that America has ever known, under the un- 
equalled leading of Gericke, and when the audience was roused to 
keen feeling, by the imminent departure of their great leader, I can 
never believe they have spoken more deeply to human souls than they 
did in those early days of enthusiasm when Herwig led, and John 
Dwight and Margaret Fuller listened. 

Boston, may I not say even America, has adopted the fifth sym- 
phony as the expression of her highest faith and hope, and when the 
greatest day in her history dawned, when Emancipation was proclaimed 
throughout the land, the grand tones rang out with new meaning, and 
our hearts responded to the great psean of faith in the Eternal Guid- 
ing Hand which would bring peace and progress out of the wildest 
chaos. 

Fifty years has not dulled the freshness of the earlier impression 
and when our great leader returned to us and his first welcome was 
in the old strains, the whole experience of life, the whole power and 
sureness of God sounded forth as of old. 

Margaret Fuller compares her feeling for Beethoven and Michael 
Angelo to passionate love. I can see her just where she sat in the old 
theatre, long since destroyed, and I love to recall this anecdote 
of her. 



TRANSCENDENTALISM. 187 

Some young people talked and laughed in her neighborhood, 
and when the concert was over, she beckoned to them and said, 
" I hope you will never experience such annoyance as you have 
this evening caused to sincere lovers of music." She then set the 
keynote to that respect for music and its lovers which holds the 
immense audience of the Music Hall at the symphony concerts 
in such unbroken silence. 

To Emerson, literature was the greatest of all the fine arts. He 
says, " There is no better illustration of the laws by which the 
world is governed than literature." 

His articles, "Thoughts on Modern Literature," review the great 
writers of the day with the most searching and critical analysis. Take 
for illustration this sentence regarding Wordsworth, and see how it 
sweeps over the petty carping criticisms of details in which so many 
shallow rhymesters then indulged. " The great praise of Wordsworth 
is that, more than any other contemporary bard, he is pervaded with a 
reverence of somewhat higher than conscious thought. There is in 
him that property common to all great poets, a wisdom of humanity, 
which is superior to any talents that they may exert. It is the wisest 
part of Shakespeare and Milton. For they are poets by the free course 
which they allow to the informing soul, which through their eyes be- 
holdetli again and blesseth the things which it hath made. The 
soul is superior to its knowledge, wiser than any of its works." 

They recognized that tlie index of new life in a nation is found 
in its npspringing literature, and to-day we hope and believe that not 
the colonies alone, but Spain herself is to find an npspringing of new 
life, and we see proof of it in the new growth in science and litera- 
ture springing up among her people. 

Wordsworth was very much beloved by the Transcendentalists. His 
" Intimations of Immortality " was Mr. Alcott's favorite text, which he 
often gave to his pupils to paraphrase. 

There was wider difference of thought about Goethe, who did not 
readily yield to their methods. He was a riddle to them, for they had 
not fully learned the relation of idealism to realism. Margaret Fuller 
was an ardent admirer and wrote much of him, with her usual pene- 
tration and breath. Emerson, although so strongly in sympathy with 
his disciple Carlyle, yet never felt quite in harmony with Goethe. 
While he says true and important things of his limitations, I must 
personally find that the revelations of fifty years of study, do not 



188 APPENDIX. 

quite justify the severity of his judgment. He says, " Humanity must 
wait for its physician still at the side of the road, and confess that 
they have served it better who assured it out of the innocent hope of 
their hearts that a physician will come, than this majestic artist, 
with all the treasures of wit, of science, and of jiower at his 
command." 

There was much ignorance of Goethe, and also much prejudice 
against him, which arose from the political influences of the time. We 
had fine Germans among us, who were full of the revolutionary spirit 
of the German liberals, and who saw in Goethe the very opposite in- 
fluence, and did not recognize the deeper thought which moved 
him. 

Theodore Parker was another of the leaders of the Transcendental 
period, who was very much moulded by the German influence, but it 
came to him from the German theology and philosophy rather than 
from the poet Goethe, whom he never with his strong Puritan nature 
fully accepted, while he fully adopted the Transcendental philosophy. 
Conscience and practical reason were so strong with him that 
his course led him to active reform rather than metaphysical 
speculation. 

The influence of Carlyle must be noted as affecting the group of 
Transcendentalists, and however we may have revolted from the 
later phases of Carlyle's thought, we must recognize the great value 
of his vigorous, direct, uncompromising spirit in saving Transcenden- 
talism from the dangers of sentiment and effeminacy into which it 
might have easily fallen. 

A little group received him at once. When James Freeman Clarke 
found his early papers in an English magazine he hastened in a glow 
of enthusiasm to impart the great discovery to Emerson, D wight. 
Hedge, and the other kindred souls who were ready to blaze into fire 
from this spark. Mr. Charles Eliot Norton tells us that the intel- 
lectual life of the new^ generation had not found expression. " Tiie 
Unitarian movement had opened doors and knocked off shackles, but 
the full light had not yet streamed in." Here was a writer whose 
convictions were based upon principles and Avhose words stood for 
realities. In 1833 Emerson made a special pilgrimage to Craigen- 
puttock, where Carlyle was living solitary and almost unrecognized. 

Frederick Hedge, John S. Dwight, with their coadjutors did admi- 
rable service by their translations from the German, which were often 



TRANSCENDENTALISM. 189 

so felicitous that they have been adopted by the public as original 
poems. 

This Transcendental group never entered fully into the great work 
of modern science, yet the direction into which science is fast leading 
its votaries is wholly in harmony with the great truths which Tran- 
scendentalism held. The grand doctrines of Evolution, of the con- 
servation of forces, of the continuity of life, of the oneness of all life, 
and the constantly increasing perception of the perfect accord of mor- 
tal and spiritual truths are entirely in harmony with Transcendental 
ideas. The methods of work were very different, the one announcing 
the intuitions of the spirit, and disclaiming material observations and 
slow and careful deduction by logical processes, while the other some- 
times lingered too long in the mere outer processes of Nature and did 
not find her hidden meaning. 

But as all roads lead to Rome, so all sincere thinking and study lead 
to the truth. Emerson, from his reverent and keen perception of Nature, 
anticipates the truths which science is slowly revealing. He prizes 
every fact as an expression of spiritual law, and it becomes illuminated 
to him. He lives so near to Nature that he knows her secrets like the 
farmer and the shepherd and the wood-chopper. Every fact in 
science was like a pearl which Emerson strung into his necklace to 
adorn his bride, his beloved Nature. 

T. W. Higginson says, "And now that much which Transcendental- 
ism sought is fulfilled, and that which was ecstasy has, as Emerson 
predicted, become daily bread, its reminiscences mingle with all 
youth's enchantments and belong to a period when we too 'toiled, 
feasted, despaired, were happy.' " 

The most characteristic of the Transcendentalists was perhaps A. 
Bronson Alcott, a man who could hardly have been what he was any- 
where but in New England, but who was no less the heir of Greece and 
Europe. 

Never having had the advantages of training in school or college 
that Emerson did, he was more in danger of following out his own 
notions to extremes, and of attempting to embody them in actual 
experience, without regarding those checks and balances that meet us 
at every turn. Yet an admirable purity and health of nature kept 
him from any license. He had a great deal of sagacity, keen Avit, and 
knowledge of character, but not that admirable good sense which is so 
conspicuous both in Emerson's words and life. 



190 APPENDIX. 

Born in a little mountain town in Connecticut, he had as few out- 
ward opportunities as any child in Xew England could be supposed 
to enjoy, and yet from his English ancestry he had inherited a natural 
high tone, not only of thought but of manners, which might lead a be- 
liever in heredity to suppose him to be a nobleman's son stolen away 
in childhood. 

" What manners your friend has," said an English gentleman to 
Mr. Sanborn. 

From the solemn religious light which flooded New England he 
gained his deep insight into spiritual thought. 

You will find in Mr. Sanborn's excellent biography a history of his 
life, and Mr. Harris's able paper on his philosophy in the same volume. 

Alcctt was the most complete representative of the idea of Transcen- 
dentalism in Education and labored unselfishly and earnestly all 
his life long to put his ideas into practice. Yet, as must always be 
the case with those thinkers who are not wedded to a sect or school, or 
bound down by old traditions, his methods and principles do not 
always seem consistent, and he cannot be treated as a thoroughly 
typical representative of what is vaguely called the New Education. 

It is difficult to understand his doctrine of the Fall of Man in con- 
nection with liis theories of the purity and almost divine inspiration of 
children. 

Wordsworth's "Ode to Immortality" was his favorite theme, which 
he frequently gave to his pupils to paraphrase and interpret. To him 
the child was no miserable little sinner whose will was to be broken 
to obedience and whose impulses were suggestions from his father the 
Devil. "Trailing clouds of glory did he come," and if his train, like 
others, gathered straws and sticks and dust upon the way, these were 
to be removed by his own vital energy, not by thrashing from a master. 

But even he recognized the duality in the child's nature, and he 
made great allowance for temperament, and recognized the force of in- 
herited tendencies which need direction and pruning if not destruction. 

It is greatly to be wished that we could have the frank expression 
of Mr. Alcott's pupils as to the effect on their minds. 

In some respects Louisa Alcott was not a Transcendentalist, and she 
loved to mock at the philosophers of Concord, all but Emerson, for 
whom she had ever the deepest reverence ; but the great doctrine had 
moulded her thought and was a living principle in her soul. Slie had 
too hard a struggle with the bitter realities of life to give her fancy 



TRANSCENDENTALISM. 191 

free play and she could not live in the serene atmosphere of contem- 
plation which seemed possible to her father at all times. Yet she 
understood and reverenced him, and to her filial devotion he owed the 
pecuniary ease which made his old age comfortable and happy. His 
sonnet written when nearly eighty years old expresses this recognition. 
Her religion permeated her whole life. 



192 APPENDIX. 



LECTURE GIVEN AT THE CONGRESS OF AMERICAN 

ADVANCEMENT OF WOMEN— NEW ORLEANS — 

November, 1895. 

SARAH MARGARET FULLER, 

(By Marriage Madame Ossoli.) 

Born May 23, 1810, at Cambridgepokt, Mass. 

Died July 19, 1850. 

It is thus nearly fifty years since the waters of the Atlantic closed 
over the bodies of the wife, the husband, and the child, who, clinging 
together in trust and love, committed themselves to their cruel grasp ; 
and yet tu-day Margaret Fuller's name is more on the lips of her 
fellow countrywomen, and her influence in their hearts, than that of 
any other woman of her own time and country. 

It is not that she stood alone, an exception to her sex, for it was 
high tide in the intellectual life of the nation, and there were noble 
women around her, not a few, worthy to be her peers in the love and 
esteem of her fellow-citizens. 

Elizabeth Palmer Peabody, Lydia Maria Child, Catherine Sedgwick, 
Sophia Ripley, Eliza Farnham, Eliza Lee Follen, and many more of 
her friends and fellow- workers, deserve to be remembered. In some 
point, perhaps, each one surpassed her, but not one of them is re- 
membered as she is. 

Why is it that, dying at the age of forty, in the early maturity of 
her powers, leaving no book which has gained general popularity, con- 
stantly hampered by ill health and suffering, not beautiful in person, 
save to those who saw the soul through its envelopment, not generally 
winning in manner, often satirical and severe, accused of arrogance and 
conceit, cruelly libelled by the wittiest poet of the day, she yet 
achieved a personality, and gained a fame which has already lasted 
half a century, and is still increasing 1 

She is the woman of America who is moulding the lives and char- 
acters of her countrywomen more than any other. 



MARGAEET FULLER. 193 

It is for her that in the new AVest whicli slie was among the first to 
understand, tlie women's clubs are named, and both in tlie East and 
West audiences gladly listen to all that can be told of her, and seek 
eagerly the solution of the question, " What v^'as it that gave her the 
mastery over minds and hearts ?" * 

Is the question not yet answered? Never had a woman nobler 
biographers. James Freeman Clarke, Ralph Waldo Emerson, and 
William Henry Channing (trio nobile fratrum) soon after her death 
gathered up precious memories of their friend in a noble tribute to her 
life and character, which is a treasure house, not only of facts, but of 
deep insight into her mind and heart. 

In later years the demand for a raoi-e popular biography was answered 
by Thomas Wentworth Hig^inson, who had looked up to her 
reverently from his childhood, whose clear narrative is enriched by 
many facts from his personal knowledge, and by Julia Ward Howe, 
who, without the advantage of much personal acquaintance, yet 
entered deeply and sympathetically into the inner life of this rare 
woman. 

But every new generation needs its commentary on the old, old 
Bibles, and again and again has this question been propounded to me, 
"What is the secret of Margaret Fuller's great influence'?" So I feel 
bound to give whatever answer I can as a sacred duty of gratitude, for 
she planted in my life the seeds of thought, principle, and purpose 
which have grown with my growth, and strengthened with ray 
strength, and I owe it to her to speak in her name, and try to make her 
life again fruitful in others. 

The first mistake that the world has made in its effort to compre- 
hend this large nature is in considering her, not as a typical woman, 
but as an exceptional one, whose powers were masculine, and who 
wielded some magic sword which she alone had strength to grasp. It is 
true that her nature was builded on grand lines, and included much 
of that large range of powers which belong exclusively to neither 
sex, but which are the solid basis of humanity. She herself recog- 
nizes what she calls masculine tendencies in her mind, but says 
elsewhere. " but after all my character is still more feminine than 
masculine." Nevertheless, with all the force of her intellect, all the 



* An island near Rock Island is named for her, and Ossoli circles are formed 
in more than one Western city. 

13 



194 APPENDIX. 

strength of lier will, all her self-denial and power of thought, she was 
essentially and thoroughly a woman, and she won her victories not by 
borrowing the peculiar weapons of man, but h}'' using her own with 
courage and skill. 

She was wont to say, " He that is more than man is less than man," 
and she would have said also, " She that is more than Avoman is less 
than woman." Whoever does not find infinite meaning and power in 
her own being will not gain it by seeking to override the limitations, 
and despising the work that is rightfully hers. Her nature was essen- 
tially Greek, and with all her mighty aspirations "she recognized the 
god Terminus, and believed that our limitations are our powers," 
and that we can only transcend them by accepting and using them. 
"Care is taken that the trees grow not into the heavens, but it is well 
that they aspire vigorously." 

And yet, who was so radical and independent as she ? Who re- 
belled against woman's sphere as laid down by lawgivers and 
preachers, and exclaimed, " Let them be sea captains if they will ! " 
Who claimed for them more earnestly the vote and the platform 1 

It was not acceptance of the outward rule, but of the inward law 
of life that she demandeil, and that law could oidy be found in free- 
dom. It is by the test of life and experience that we learn both our 
limitations and our powers. Growth and life do not change essential 
qualities, but bring them to perfection. 

You may easily starve an oak into a scrub by hard conditions, but 
if you place the willow in the broadest pastures and richest soil, where 
all the winds of heaven may play freely about it, it may grow large 
and strong, but it will be evermore and more a willow, with its own 
graceful form, and its own excuse for being. 

Her whole plea for woman is the same as for humanity, the indi- 
vidual right of freedom and development. She shall work out her life 
according to her own insight, finding access to the infinite soul by 
direct aspiration and reception, without arbitrary constraint. 

Her wonderful book, "Woman in the Nineteenth Century," however 
easily criticised on the score of metho<l, contains the pith and marrow 
of the woman movement, and makes the largest demand for her 
natural equality and political rights, and yet it brings her before you 
as pure as Una herself, claiming that it is by her fine spiritual power, 
by her sensitive conscience, by her open relation with the great spirit 
of life, that she is to become "the queen that the earth waits for." 



MARGARET FULLER. 195 

One reason for Margaret's power over others was the range and in- 
tensity of lier own life. She was no saint of impossible perfections, she 
was not one of 

" Those blessed souls, without reproach or blot, 
"Who do thy will, yet know it not." 

She was eminently born to struggle even more with her own nature 
than witli circumstances without. But if she had an army of fiends 
to struggle against, she had mighty angels to assist her in the fight, for 
truth, courage, and love were on her side. 

Her nature was intense, sensitive, and passionate, and a hereditary 
tendency to self-consciousness and apparent self-conceit was so blended 
with loftiness of soul and the highest ambition that she was con- 
stantly misunderstood by the crowd about her, who saw only the out- 
ward manner. She herself speaks of "my arrogance of youthful hope 
and pride." This tendency was fostered by her father's recognition of 
her unusual intellectual gifts, and the classic education which he o-ave 
her. Without the wholesome correctives of a well-ordered school 
her mind was intensely stimulated by her early study of the Greek 
and Roman authors, and her imagination created a world of heroic 
beings among whom slie lived, and with whom she felt her own like- 
ness and equality. 

Lydia Maria Cliild described to a friend this little scene, which 
she herself witnessed, and which gives a picture of Margaret as a 
child. 

She went to a dancing-school tauglit by a lively and rather irascible 
Frenchman. In some way she offended bim so much that he ordered 
her to leave the room. Margaret tossed her head, and walked out 
Avith an air so commanding, that the master called out, "Shtop, 
Miss FuUair! you sail not walk so superb, you tiuk you General 
Wasinffton." 

She seemed indeed like Saul, a head taller than all her brethren, 
and while she was ever willing to lift others up to herself, it required 
long training to teach her the reverence of things below her. 

One of her oldest and dearest friends says of her, " la my first ac- 
quaintance I was much offended by the arrogant manner, as it seemed 
to me, that she wore, and wore as if it were habitual. It took time 
before I could begin to understand the capacity for love and sympathy 
which lay hidden under this unlovely aspect." 



196 APPENDIX. 

When a little child walking under the apple trees, her father pointed 
to her saying, " Ineedit regina " (She walks like a queen). 

W. H. Channing said, " Her stately deportment but expressed high- 
heartedness." 

She gained valuable traits of character from her father, whom 
Colonel Higginson describes as " conscientious, vigorous, well informed 
and public-spirited." 

Her mother was of a very different type. She was exquisitely 
delicate and refined, conscientious and loving. Her daughter's words 
best describe her : " We cannot be sufficiently grateful for our raotlier, 
so fair a blossom of the white amaranth, truly to us a mother in this, 
that we can venerate her piety. Our relations to her have known no 
jar. Nothing vulgar has sullied them, and in this respect life has 
been tridy domesticated." 

Throughout Margaret's private letters and diaries is found a clear 
recognition of the blessings of family love, and constant regard for the 
best good of hor younger brothers and sister. And yet so inveterate 
was the prejudice against her that she was supposed to look upon this 
cherished mother with heartless contempt, and was reporteil to have 
said " she was going to stay at home this winter and educate her 
mother." 

When she was about thirteen she had a short experience of school 
life, and this at a period when all the impulses of the soul and heart 
were mingled in chaotic confusion. The impression that she made 
upon her schoolmates was remarkable. 

Her father sent her for a time to the school of Misses Prescott at 
Groton, probably because he felt that she was too much isolated from 
tlie companions of her age. 

Here occurre<l that singular experience which she has told under 
feigned names and circumstances, as the story of " Marianna " in her 
first published book, " Summer on the Lakes." Among other fer- 
mentations of her young soul, arose the passion for beauty, which 
indulged itself in fantastic dress. " Always some sash was twisted 
about her, some drapery, something odd in the arrangement of her 
hair and dress," quite contrary to the ideas of her methodical precep- 
tress. Private theatricals afforded a vent for this restless spirit, and 
in these she shone and ruled triumphant. But, unfortunately, the 
artificial bloom of the stage pleased her so much that she continued to 
use her rouge daily after the theatrical season was over. This offended 



MARGARET FULLER. 197 

the pupils, and they laid a plot to shame her. Coming down a 
little late to dinner one day, when her heart had been°tuned to 
special sweetness by a summer morning in the fields, she raised 
her eyes to her companions, and saw that each one was deeply 
rouged with a glaring round spot in either cheek. Every one had 
joined in the plot. The teachers strove to be grave, but they 
enjoyed the joke, and the servants tittered. It came near being 
a tragedy tliat might have wrecked her life. She did not blencl^ 
but swallowing her dinner with apparent composure, she made re- 
marks to her neighbors as if she saw nothing. Her foes were the 
more enraged, and they ran off gaily, laughing and casting satirical 
glances at her. She went at once to her room, locked the door, 
and threw herself on the floor in strong convulsions. After a long 
sleep she arose an altered being. It was her heart, not her pride 
tliat was most deeply wounded. " Xot one of all who had seemed 
to love her but turned against her." Her outward demeanor be- 
came staid and regular, but slie hated all the world. I cannot tell 
how literal the following account is, but it must at least represent 
a deep experience : 

" The demon of discord entered into her soul, and she fostered all 
seeds of envy, jealousy, and hatred in the school, until at last the 
principal brought her to a public trial. At first she defended herself, 
but when she found that slie could not withstand the proofs presented^ 
she suddenly threw herself down, dashing her head with all her force 
against the iron hearth, on which a fire was burning, and was taken 
up senseless." 

Many days passed in blind anguish, when one of her teachers 
found the key to her heart by a revelation of her own trials and 
sufferings. Later she writes to this teacher, referring to these 
passages at school, "Can I ever forget that to your treatment 
at that crisis of youtli, I owe the true life, the love of truth and 
honor"? " 

The great value of this account of the inward life is, that no girl 
can feel that there is any temptation, however sordid and vain, how- 
ever deep and terrible, that this soul could not understand and help 
one to conquer. 

This narrative, too, shows how intense was her personal affection, 
how deep and strong her feelings. She had the womanly power of 
bringing all her forces into play to meet the exigencies of the moment, 



198 APPENDIX. 

and to exercise a control over the passions and wills of others when 
necessary.* 

Her sleep was haunted by terrible dreams, the result of the evening's 
mental excitement, and she often alarmed the family by walking in 
her sleep. 

The magnetism of her influence was felt even in her school days. 
At a school in Cambridge, where she came only to recite in Greek, 
she was wont to walk in with that peculiar carriage of the head, and 
half-shut eyes, wliich characterized her, and which was partly due to 
nearsightedness. '* We thought," said one of the girls, " that if we 
could only come into school that way, we could know as much Greek 
as she did." 

She had little of the free, careless life of childhood, which forms 
such a warm undertone for the coloring of life. Serious study, and 
deep thought filled up lier days, and at thirteen or fourteen she was 
already a shining light in the brilHant society of Cambridge, and ex- 
posed to the intoxicating excitement of social success. There was a 
fund of delightful wit and rich humor in her that could not be re- 
pressed. It was said of her as a guest, that she filled the house with 
life, and her own inspiration kindled every other. One of her oldest 
friends gives her first recollection of Margaret as coming unexpectedly 
into a children's party, and at once becoming the leader in all the 
plays, and enlivening the whole circle with her fun and spirit. 

She knew all a young girl's temptations, — the keen desire for 
beauty, the charms of beautiful dress, the enjoyment of admiration. 
She tortured her hair into curls. 

A lady told me that she was in her Sunday-school class at Cam- 
bridge, and that Margaret came with her hair done up in papers, 
under her broad leghorn hat, that she might have the curls fresh and 
fair for going to church. 

I am afraid that she suffered from corsets, to which she may have 
owed the curved spine which, together with the evening study, made 
her such a sufferer from nervous headache. She had a thirst fur love, 
and a longing for excitement and adventure. Frivolities indeed, but 



* A lady told me that her mother was at Miss Piescott's scliool, and that she 
said that Miss Prescott sugqested and encouraged the pupils to play this trick on 
Miss Fuller. She was the youngest pupil in the school, and she could never for- 
give the teacliers for allowing this attack on one whom she greatly admired. 



MARGARET FULLER. 199 

they helped her to know the heart of young women, and to guide 
tliem in many a difficult path. 

Miss Bruce, one of the young pupils at Brook Farm, speaks of the 
need which the girls there felt of a motherly friend. " Indeed," she 
says, " I know of no one but Margaret Fidler who would have been 
what we needed. How all-sufficient we should have found her 
■wonderfully comprehensive judgment and tenderness." 

At a later period when living at Mr. Greeley's, she wrote to this 
same friend, " My dear Georgiana, invite every peaceful thought that 
shows any willingness to come, and live on as courageously as you 
can for us who cherish, and tlie many who will yet need you — I can 
say no more ; this is all the consolation I have been able to find for 
myself at certain dark periods of my life, yet have lived after to beau- 
tiful moments and successive daybreaks of glorious light." 

Her craving intellect sought nourishment in every direction, and the 
amount of her reading was enormous. 

Mr. Emerson said that her reading at Groton was at a rate like 
Gibbons. 

Shakespeare, Cervantes, and Moliere were the friends of her child- 
hood, and at the age of fifteen or sixteen, Mme. de Stael, Epictetus, 
Milton, Racine, and Castilian ballads are mentioned as read by her 
with delight. Slie comments in her diary on Shelley, Sir James 
Mackintosh, Herschel, Wordsworth, etc. She began the study of 
German in 1832, and in three months acquired the command of the 
language, so that within the year she had read the most important 
works of Goetlie and Schiller, with the writings of Tieck, Korner, 
Richter, and Novalis. Her early criticisms of these writers, as given 
by Mrs. Howe, are interesting as showing her profound appreciation 
of Goethe at a later period. In learning German she gave herself up 
entirely to it, reading no other language even in the newspapers. 

At twenty-three she was so familiar with Dante that Emerson pro- 
posed her translating the " Vita Nuova." 

Her love of German did not prevent her studying many French 
authors, of whom she counted Moliere, Montaigne, Rabelais, and 
Rousseau the most important, to which might be added many philo- 
sophic and historic works. 

But although her reading was so varied and desultory, her mind 
was never swamped by worthless literature. Her early acquaintance 
with the classic writers, and her constant intellectual communion 



200 APPENDIX. 

with superior minds, and especially with men of scholarly training, 
kept her standard high, and enabled her to suck the honey out of 
books that many would now find dry and uninteresting. Her ac- 
quaintance with languages, which was a fresh and vital one, opened 
to her the rich storehouses of foreign literature, and her thoroughly 
cosmopolitan spirit took the best from every nation. 

She never made the mystic's mistake of despising the intellect. 
She once says, " I was careful not to let down the intellectual, in 
raising the moral tone of my mind." 

From how many tragedies would the best of men have been saved, 
if they had regarded this precaution. Her sense of duty braced her 
mind, and reason helped her conscience. 

Out of this world of society, teeming with excitement, open to 
inward and outward temptation, but full of the richest opportunities 
that America could afford her, shall I say that the angel of her life 
took her up, and placed her in the meagre surroundings and quiet 
routine of a little country town? She was at this time twenty-two 
years of age. Tlie family removed to Groton, Mass., and her father 
wished her to undertake the education of her brothers, promising her 
as a reward for this work a sufficient sum of money for a journey to 
Europe, the goal of her desires. It was no foolish love of pleasure 
that kindled this purpose. Europe then was the fountain head of all 
intellectual life, and she, who liad so faithfully pursued every path 
that opened to her, believed that in direct contact with its master 
minds she would gain the impulse that she needed for the development 
of her own thought, and the direction of her life. 

How her heart sank as she entered her new home, clouded as it was 
with sorrow, from a terrible accident to a dear child, wiiom she found 
burning with fever. 

She expresses her feelings in her private diary, looking at all the 
difficulties frankly as was her wont, but recognizing the lesson they 
are to teach. " What a weary work is before me, ere that lesson be 
fully learned." "Yet," she concludes, "will I try to keep the heart 
Avith diligence, nor ever fear that the sun has gone out because I 
shiver in the cold and dark." 

Besides the five, sometimes eight, hours a day that she gave to 
instruction in three languages, geography, and history, she was obliged 
to do a great deal of plain sewing. This was a trial, when the beau- 
tiful summer wooed her out of doors, but she made it also a blessing. 



MARGARET FULLER, 201 

for ill these hours of mechanical labor she reviewed the intellectual 
treasures with which her mind was filled. Perhaps it was to this dull 
employment that she owed the power of criticism. Every writer whom 
she studied, as every person whom she knew, she placed in his own 
class, knew his relation to otlier writers, to the world, to life, to nature, 
to herself. Much as they might delight her, they never swept her 
away. She recognized clear distinctions, and saw both resemblances 
and differences. 

She was at times a little severe on sewing, which was then con- 
sidered to be the chief occupation and duty of a woman's life. I once 
heard her say, " Plain sewing is decidedly immoral," meaning, I sup- 
pose, that many women content themselves with the thought of 
industry when stitching wristbands by the thread, or stroking and 
sewing gathers, while mind and soul are empty and unemployed.* 
Yet, often as she was impatient and restless under this ordeal, she 
looked back upon these as the most useful years of her life. She 
came to a better understanding of her father, whose practical and 
authoritative nature was very unlike her own, and yet who possessed 
strong and valuable qualities, and she speaks with touching recognition 
of his love and pride in her. 

Those were not the days, and hers, I think, not the family for sen- 
timental gush and mutual admiration, but as is abundantly proved by 
her diaries and letters, as well as by the grateful recollection of her 
fanuly and friends, she had the most tender regard for her mother, 
and watched over her younger brothers and sister with wise, constant, 
and loving thought, the only reward she aske<l being that they might 
do the work slie liad never been able to do. I think that some of her 
letters to her brothers, given by Mr. Higginson, are among the noblest 
revelations of her inward life. 

Soon her devotion to duty was brought to a severe test. She had 
nearly completed the prescribed course of education f<3r her brothers, 
and all the arrangements were made fir the long promised visit to 
Europe. A delightful party of friends were to accompany her, one of 
whom was Mrs. Farrar, whose own character and connections would 



* Sewing was at that time considered the chief business of woman's life. An 
old friend of my mother asked her once, "What is Ednah doing?" "Oh, she 
is always busy!" answered ray mother. "Why! I thought she did not sew 
much " was the reply. 



202 APPENDIX. 

open to her much that she desired to see in Europe. Just as this 
fair prospect (which seemed all that her heart desired) opened to 
Margaret, her father died very suddenly of cholera. 

Although up to this time his business affairs seemed to have 
been prosperous, and the family had not apparently suffered from 
pecuniary difficulties, yet after his death they " experienced miserable 
perplexities in their affairs, a disorder of a house which has lost its 
head, and the burdens restiug upon the mother." To take tlie 
money from the estate, as her family urged her to do, and fulfil 
her plans, leaving the others to struggle on alone, was not in her 
power, and she felt obliged, as she says, " to follow a path for which 
I had no skill and no call, except that some one must tread it, and 
none else Avas ready." 

It was a severe struggle to the young woman. Margaret was no 
sentimentalist, who valued self-sacrifice for its own sake. She thought 
that self-culture was the duty of every human being, but she also 
recognized the right of others, and the law of duty was paramount to 
her individual good. In after years she told of her lonely struggles 
out in the fields, and how nature calmed her soul, and strengthened 
her to do the hard duty. 

The bread that she thus cast upon the waters was indeed returned 
to her after many days. Ten years later her friends, Mr. and Mrs. 
Marcus Spring, invited her to accompany them to Europe, so tliat as 
good Mrs. Alcott used to say, " her bread came back well buttered." 
By this time she had attained greater ripeness of her own powers, 
and established a literary fame which made her welcome among 
the people whom slie most desired to see. 

Her next great experience in life was as a teacher. This was not 
her chosen vocation, and while she did conscientious work, and always 
magnified the teacher's office, I doubt if it called out her best powers. 
She worked very hard with German and Italian classes, reading with 
them parts of Tasso, Petrarch, Ariosto, Alfieri, and the whole of the 
Divina Commedia. Slie also gave a boy, unable to use his eyes, oral 
instruction in Latin, English History, and Shakespeare, an<l assisted 
Dr. Channing by reading to hira from German authors. 

Her first experience in school was in connection with Mr. A. 
Bronson Alcott. Mr. Alcott says of her in his diary, "a person 
given to the boldest speculation, and of liberal and varied acquire- 
ments. Not wanting in imaginative power, she has the rarest good 



MARGARET FULLER. 203 

sense and discretion. The blending of sentiment and wisdom in her 
is most remarkable, and her taste is as fine as her prudence. I think 
her the most brilliant talker of her day." 

She saw the practical defects in his school, but she bravely defended 
him, and wrote to one of h«r friends whom she heard was "to cut 
him up," "I should be charmed if I thought you were writing a Ion", 
beautiful, wiselike article, showing the elevated air and at the same 
time the practical defects of his system." 

In 1837 she engaged to teach in the Green Street School in 
Providence. When asked what salary she expected for teaching she 
replied, " What do you pay the governor of your State 1 " She exer- 
cised a great influence upon many of her scholars, for which they 
Avere profoundly grateful through life, but she never felt quite 
satisfied with her work. Probably her own rich, stimulating, but 
somewhat desultory education did not specially fit her for the daily 
drill and practical routine of a schoolroom, but she influenced her pupils 
by her high moral bearing. When any child asked a question which 
she was not prepared to answer, she never bluffed her, or said, " See 
what you can find out, and I will tell you to-morrow if you are right," 
but she replied, "I do not know, but I think we can find out. We 
will look it up together." 

Her influence over children is well illustrated by an anecdote of a 
little girl, who had been accused of disobedience in touching a micro- 
scope, which was found broken. The child was shut up as a punish- 
ment, not for the fault alone, but for falsehood in denying it. 
When Miss Fuller came she took the weeping child on her knee, and 
said, " iS'ow, my dear little girl, tell me all about it. Only remember 
that you must be careful, for I shall believe every word that you say." 
Thus encouraged, the child told the innocent story, and upon investi- 
gation was completely acquitted. This reminds me of an answer 
which I once heard her make, in one of her conversations, to a 
lady who asked, "But would you not tell a child that God does 
not love her when she is naughty]" "No," said Margaret; "it is 
not true." 

She appears to have taught less than two years in Providence, 
and gladly left the profession to devote herself more entirely to 
literary work. Her summer vacation, of only three weeks, began on 
August 19th. As she had been rising at half-past four or five, and 
with the exception of two hours at noon, had worked or studied 



204 APPENDIX. 

until six o'clock at night, and filled up the evening with exercise 
or calls, we cannot wonder that she was weary and wanted rest 
when she left Providence in 1838. But she accepts the discipline 
and experience of the 5'ears spent in teaching, and although she 
wishes for a different life, she believes " that if duty should again 
call her to this work, she could take it up, and produce better results 
both for herself and others." 

It is pleasant to me that her next home, November, 1840, was at 
Jamaica Plain, Mass., and that in what was then a beautiful rural 
town she had much delightful spiritual communion with nature. She 
came into the life of the flowers, and wrote many little fancies about 
them. She writes thus to a friend : '' If you survive me, will you not 
collect my little flower pieces, even the insignificant ones '? I feel as 
if from mother I had received a connection with the flowers. She 
has the love, I, the interpretation. My writings about them are no 
fancies, but whispers from themselves." 

The wild asters and the goldenrod uttered their secrets to her, 
and nature's music is sometimes playing on her almost too fully. 
She had hardly " strength to bear it." " I am living like an angel, 
and I don't know how to get down. Yet they are waiting all around, 
leaning on the packs they expect me to lift. They look at me 
reverently, affectionately. They are patient, yet I see they are 
waiting." 

It was a time of thought and exaltation, when the air was full of 
glowing romance. There is a touch of her woman's nature in one 
little word in her diary. When speaking of Goethe's " Farbenlehre," 
which delighted her with the beautiful symbolism it suggested, she 
says, " There was a time when one such fact would have made my 
day brilliant with thought, but now I seek the Divine rather in love 
tlian law." But even here were many of what she called rye-bread 
days, when the hours were faithfully occupied with homely details, 
letters of advice to her brothers about school matters, and even in 
regard to their shirt collars, and lessons of economy and respect for 
the use of money. 

It was in this quiet life that she first conceived the plan of holding 
conversations, which so happily brought out her wonderful powers, 
and extended her influence beyond her immediate social circle. These 
conversations were begun in the simplest manner, and were first held 
at the house of her faithful friend, Elizabeth P. Peabody. They 



MARGARET FULLER. 205 

began in 1839, and were continued nearly up to the time of her 
removal to New York in 1844.* 

I had the inestimable privilege of attending her conversations for 
three successive seasons, and I count it among the greatest felicities 
of my life that I thus came under her influence at a very early age, 
an influence which has never failed me in all the years of my life ; 
and yet I recognize how vain is the eff'ort to give you any idea of 
" Vita Nuova " which slie opened to me. Her oldest and dearest 
friend now living writes me, " You may say many things of Margaret, 
but the personal magnetism is incommunicable, and died with her." 

I was eager enough for any intellectual advantage, but I had imbibed 
with the unthinking eagerness of a schoolgirl the common prejudices 
against Miss Fuller, and although I believed that I should learn from 
her, I had no id(;a that I should esteem, and, much more, love her. 
I found myself in a new world of thought ; a flood of light irradiated 
all that I had seen in nature, observed in life, or read in books. 
Whatever she spoke of revealed a hidden meaning, and everything 
seemed to be put into true relation. Perhaps I could best express 
it by saying that I was no longer the limitation of myself, but I felt 
that the whole wealth of the universe was open to me. It was this 
consciousness of the illimitable ego, the divinity in the soul, which 
was so real to Margaret herself, and what she meant in her great 
saying, " I accept the universe," which gave her that air of regal 
superiority which was misinterpreted as conceit. 

Perhaps I can best give you an idea of wliat she was to me by an 
answer which I made to her. One day when she was alone with me, 
and I feel as if I could now feel her touch and hear her voice, she 
said, " Is life rich to yon 1 " and I replied, " It is since I have known 
you." Such was the response of many a youthful heart to her, and 
herein was her wonderful influence. She did not make us her 
disciples, her blind followers. She opened the book of life and 
helped us to read it for ourselves. It was not the young alone who 
were fascinated by her speech, but when among her intellectual 

* Within a short distance of her former home in Jamaica Plain, a primary- 
school house has been named in her honor by the school committee. The 
neighbors contributed a handsome United States fl;ig and a streamer, so that the 
name of Margaret Fuller floats over the spot where young American citizens begin 
their public education. May she lead many a young mind to " the true life, the 
path of truth and honor." 



206 APPENDIX. 

peers, if such there were, all her powers were aroused, and men of 
the highest culture and thought would listen to her the livelong day, 
wrapped in the music of her speech. 

The best account of the conversations is given by Mr. Emerson in 
the closing chapter of the original biography, and it does justice to 
their brilliancy and earnestness of thought. It is mainly taken froju 
the accounts of others, not from Mr. Emerson's own recollections. 
Yet, after all, any attempt to report her conversations seems to me 
like sampling the house by the bricks. For, as a lady correspondent 
writes, "Just in proportion to the importance of the subject does 
she tax her mind, and say what is most important, while of neces- 
sity, nothing is reported from her conversations but her brilliant 
sallies, her occasional paradoxes of form, reacting upon dulness and 
folly." 

At this very time she was engaged also in the conduct of " The 
Dial," that remarkable record of the thought and life of the epoch, 
wliich has grown richer and racier with age, and is after fifty years 
more eagerly sought for than when it was fresh from the printer's 
hands. As the zeal of some of its first contributors slackened, she 
was obliged often to write under severe pressure, and for one number 
she furnished half the contents herself. 

Margaret Fuller's name is by many connected with the interesting 
experiment in association at West Roxbury, called Brook Farm, but 
her relation to it was very slight. She occasionally went there for 
a few weeks' rest, but she never belonged to the society, nor did she 
fully accept its ideas. Most unfortunately, Hawthorne, the great 
romancer, seized upon certain picturesque features of this movement, 
and the sad tragedy of Margaret's de.ath, and wove around them a 
veil of fiction wliich is an utter travesty of the truth. He always 
disclaimed any intention of representing Margaret nnder the guise 
of Zeuobia, but the public obstinately refused to credit his assertion, 
and many accept the burlesque as at least a shadow of the true 
character. Mr. Higginson has treated tliis matter so well in his 
life of Miss Fuller that I will not dwell upon it here. 

I shall not dwell upon her literary work, except to speak of her 
remarkable book, first published in " The Dial," and afterwards 
enlarged and printed with the title of " Woman in the Nineteenth 
Century," which caused a profound sensation on its first appearance. 
Margaret's ideal of women was the highest, and her treatment of the 



MARGARET FULLER. 207 

subject was so broad and full that the book yet remains the great 
reservoir of thought on this subject, and the most advanced thinkers 
find in it constant inspiration and suggestion. 

After twenty months of residence in New York, the long-desired 
opportunity came, and she sailed for England August 1st, 1846. 

" From this martyrdom came I unto peace," says Dante. Out of 
this intense experience of thought and suffering, as well as of rich 
enjoyment and vivid life, how did our Margaret attain that peace, 
that sweetness, that depth of humility and patience which all who 
knew and loved her felt had become the very atmosphere of her 
being ] It did not come unsought ; she strove earnestly towards it. 
She had come to look upon patience as a supreme virtue. 

The discipline of life Avas severe. A nature impassioned, exacting, 
'impatient, was to be wrought into divine tranquillity, without deserting 
its high standard, or losing its vigor and far-reaching hope. In her 
short life she passed through many trials, many experiences, but each 
one was acce[)ted and held firmly in her grasp, until she had sucked 
out its utmost significance. Thus she became the interpreter and 
savior of women, for there was no questioning, no suffering, that had 
not passed through the alembic of her imagination and thought, if 
not of her actual experience, and from them she drew that " solid and 
sweet wisdom " which enabled her to understand women's hearts, and 
guide them through their difficulties.* 

The largeness of her life and thoughts made her a great helper. 
'> What can we despair of with infinity at command ? There is room 
enougli in the universe for my faults," she said. She respected every 
individuality ; " only give the soul freedom and room enough to grow, 
and it will grow from its own centre." 

"I can understand," she says, "each mind in its own way, for I 
see men in their several natures, and not by any rule taken from my 
own character and experiences." So she says of Tennyson, " He has 
solved his own problems." She never imposed her own beliefs on 
others ; she expressed them freely and sought the meaning of others' 
thoughts, but she respected also her own individuality, and would not 

* I have no wish to limit her influence to women. Many noble men, even of 
those who have known her only through hex writings, recognize her as a powerful 
inspiration and guide to their lives. Her friendships with men were as deep and 
strong as with her own sex, for in her early life she found in them often more in- 
tellectual sympathy and companionship. 



208 APPENDIX. 

submit to dictation. She said, " All the good I have ever done has 
been by calling on every nature for its higliest. I will admit that 
sometimes I have been wanting in gentleness, but never in tenderness 
nor in noble faith." 

Her acquaintajice with nature, and her power of sympathy with all 
life, were expressed in her love of symbolism, her recognition of that 
region in which spirit and matter seem to melt into eacli other, wliich 
led her to delight in charms and amulets, in mysterious intercourse 
with other minds, in omens of good or ill to herself, in revelations of 
spiritual help, in all which gave lier glimpses of the inner relations of 
the beauty of the outward world and deep eternal truths. As she 
says, " I would beat with the living heart of the world, and under- 
stand all the moods, even the fancies and fantasies of nature." This 
tendency is shown in her interest in the account of the " Seeress of 
Provost" which she gives in "Summer on the Lakes." 

With this depth of feeling, and vividness of imagination, it is hard 
to see why she never became a great poet like Sappho or Elizabeth 
Barrett. Her thoughts often took lyric form in her diary, and always 
seemed a spontaneous expression of deep feeling. Spoken by her 
own lips, these little poems were full of meaning and beauty, which 
clung to the memory for years ; but they won little attention, even 
from her biographers. That she valued them herself, although she 
does not over-estimate their merits is evident from the fact that she 
introduced them into her books and conversations. 

In Goethe she found the full recognition of the Greek tendency and 
the modern spirit, and if he was never lier master he was always her 
teacher and helper, as she calls him, "high-priest of trutli, and best 
lover of man." She recognized music as the liighest art, and in her 
first delight in the Beethoven symphonies as performed at the 
Academy of Music in Boston, she places this artist above every other, 
even Michael Angelo. 

She often expresses the wish to write a romance or novel, and the 
stories slie has told in " Summer on the Lakes " show her i-are power 
of entering vividly into personalities. Mrs. Howe especially speaks of 
her dramatic power as shown in her imaginary conversations of Aglau- 
ron and Laurie in " The Dial." 

Indeed her sense of personality was one of her great powers. She 
never touches a story, however lightly, but the characters rise up 
vividly before you. Fine instances of this occur in "Summer on the 



MARGARET FULLER, 209 

Lakes," not only in Marianna, but in the sketch of the noble man 
chained to a low and vulgar wife. 

Her nature was intuitive and enthusiastic, but balanced by her 
clear perceptions of the value of limitations, and guided by her abso- 
lute fidelity to truth. Her truth was the offspring of her love and 
trust. To know what really is, is to know the best that can be, and 
she was ready to accept whatever came to her as truth, however harsh 
or difficult it might seem. She did not merely speak the truth, but it 
was the basis of her thought and life. 

I think an explanation of her great personal influence was her rare 
power of speaking the truth. Her old friend writes : 

" She made friends instead of enemies by the use of this rare faculty. A 
young Divinity student told me, after he had become widely known and 
loved, that walking with her in his student days, he said to her in answer 
to friendly inquiries about his plans and prospects, that he knew he should 
never be a distinguished preacher, but that he hoped to become a good pas- 
tor. She replied, ' There are few persons, Mr. , who can form so just 

an estimate of their own powers as you have done.' He said he was 
startled by such frankness, for he perceived tliat he had opened the way for 
a compliment, but was pleased that he was complimented by this speaking 
direct truth to him." 

It was an inestimable privilege to talk with a friend of whose 
direct truth you were so sure. 

Her method of thought was to seize the heart of the subject and 
develop from within. Nature readily yielded to her its spiritual 
meaning, and it was for that she valued it. Hence, the old mythol- 
ogies, especially the Greeks, were very dear to her, and she was 
never weary of interpreting their meaning. It was human life speak- 
ing, and without hesitation she recognized its natural piety under any 
guise. As the Greeks had read the meaning of nature, so nature to 
her interpreted the Greeks. 

Her religion was as broad and all-embracing as her thought. I do 
not know the record of any spiritual life more absolutely free from 
theological narrowness, and yet more truly religious. 

The depth of her life, her joy and faith in living, was the secret of 
her marvellous power over others. She had no question that it was 
great to live, and it was this abounding sense of life that made her 
walk the earth like the queen she was, and fill every day with the 
grandeur and fulness of eternity. 

14 



210 APPENDIX. 

That in tlie impetuosity and impatience of youth this fulness of 
life rushed in excess of speech, and what seemed hauteur of manner, 
was not strange. She knew it herself. " You walked into church," 
said Elizabeth Peabody to her, " as if you felt superior to everybody 
there." "Well, I did feel so," Margaret repUed. And yet what 
depths of humility were in her heart, how truly she estimated her 
own short-comings, how fully she recognized the discipline needed to 
tune her soul to patience and sweetness appears on almost every page 
of her diary. If she felt that the universe was her birthright, not less 
did she feel the responsibility for every power given her, and the 
acceptance of duty was as firm as the demand for life was full and 
ample. 

" She unlearned contempt," and the tenderness born of love, born 
of suffering, became her marked characteristic, and made her the con- 
fidant of many a torn and bleeding heart, the helper of many a suf- 
ferer, and the consoler of the wounded patriots in the hospitals of 
Italy. Dazzled by the brilliancy of her intellect, or offended by the 
keenness of her wit, many have never thought of her in these rela- 
tions. It has been my hope that in trying to present her image as 
it has formed itself in my mind, from a brief acquaintance in early 
youth, developed by all that I have since known of her history and 
writing, I have at least given some recognition of her true and tender 
heart. Poor and faint as my sketch is, I trust it will lead many to 
the treasure-house of her life and thoughts, from which may be drawn 
inexhaustible riches ; and most thankful shall I be if I have given 
to any the key to uidock its treasures. 

I must close my personal recollections with the end of her American 
life, after which she went on her way, and mine earthly eyes saw no 
more. We watched and waited, believing that she would return to us 
enriched by her new life, and crowned with the glory of fulfilled love, 
and happy motherhood. It was hard to accept the overthrow of 
these hopes. 

From the imperfect records that have come to us, I will try to give 
you some idea of her life in Italy, and the fulfilment of her hopes 
there. 



MAKGARET FULLER. 211 



MARGARET FULLER IN ITALY (mADAME OSSOLi). 

I remember my surprise when I first heard her say, in answer to a 
question " What country is dearest to you 1 " " Oh ! Italy ; " for as we 
were then so full of enthusiasm for Germany and its literature I had 
supposed she would choose the land of Goethe and Schiller. 

There is a very sharp separation between her life in America and 
that which opened to her in Europe, and yet her studies and struggles 
here had fitted her for the fuller life that opened to her there. 

As we gather up the scant records of her thoughts and deeds dur- 
ing these last few years, they seem to us ahnost like revelations" of a 
future life, connected indeed by ties of love and memory with this 
life, but giving us glimpses of higher and richer experiences than any 
known before. 

Notwithstanding her deep love for Italy, she never ceased to be an 
American and to love her whole country, and especially her " dear 
New England " as her native home. Yet she was a keen observer, 
and recognized the faults and dangers that beset its young life. It 
has been charged against her that she did not take an active part in the 
Anti-Slavery movement, nor recognize the great mission it was to 
have in moulding the destinies of the country. Slie did not indeed 
devote herself to this great cause with the singleness of purpose and 
intense zeal of Maria Weston Chapman and Lydia Maria Child. The 
influences aliout her early life were not of this character, and the 
movement had not then taken the active form which it did after her 
departure from America, and her own studies had been mainly in the 
direction of literature, art, and philosophy. But she did feel warmly 
and strongly in opposition to the fatal policy of the Government as 
she saw the growing encroachments of slavery. 

I remember hearing her speak with great earnestness of the threat- 
ened annexation of Texas in order to increase the power of the slave 
States, and she said " it did not seem possible that such a sinful plan 
could be carried into effect." 

When Margaret Fuller went to Europe, in 1846, no woman of her 
age in America could have been better prepared not only to enjoy its 
treasures, but to reap rich harvest of ripened thought and knowledge 
from its fields. From her wide reading, and still more from her 
power of deep sympathy and her recognition of true life under all 



212 APPENDIX. 

forms, she was more absolutely free from national prejudices than any 
one I have ever known. Not like Hazlitt did she have " no prej- 
udices, but hate the French," but it might be said of her that she liked 
all nations, but loved Italy. As she said, " Greek and Jew, Italian 
and Saxon are surely but leaves on one stem at last." Although cer- 
tain faults of various nations grated upon her feelings, she did justice to 
their merits ; but in spite of its faults, which she recognized and 
mourned, she loved Italy as mother does her child, with all her heart. 
Even of Spain she believes that it has an important part to play. 

She had far more of the keen insight, quick perception, passionate 
feeling and deep relation to the universal mind of the great Italians 
than the broad, cool, abstruse thought of German thinkers. 

I shall touch very lightly on her experience of travel before reach- 
ing the home of her heart. 

She left New York with her friends Marcus and Rebecca Spring 
and their young son on the tirst day of August. How little did she 
dream, when she entered upon this rich life under such happy 
auspices, that only four years more of earthly life would be granted 
her ; and yet what a work these few short years wrought in her life 
and character, and how much of deep and also happy experience was 
crowded into them. 

In England she met many distinguished and interesting persons and 
notes their courtesy, and wonders not at their disgust at Ameiican 
manners. 

But she says, " With all the abuses of America, we have one advan- 
tage which outweighs them all. Most persons reject the privilege, but 
it is really possible for one to grow ! " 

She looked forward to meeting Carlyle with great interest, but the 
dissonance between these two natures was soon manifest. 

She was cordially received in London and made many interesting 
acquaintances, but prized most the meeting with the Italian patriot 
Mazzini. 

Her sketches of people in London show her warm appreciation of 
talent. She speaks hopefully of more than one poet whose fame has 
not equalled her expectations, but she felt the force of the personal in- 
dividuality even if artistic merit was wanting. 

In Scotland she had a remarkable experience in passing a whole 
night on a mountain, Ben Lomond, alone. She became separated from 
her companions in a fog, and was entirely unable to find the path 



MARGARET FULLER. 213 

again. But in the solemn solitary night she was not afraid but awed 
by the glorious mystery around her. She speaks A'ery slightly of her 
experience in her hurried note-book but says, " All the adventures of 
the eventful twenty-four hours to be written out in full," and closes : 
'•' Love Marcus and Eebecca forever." The most interesting person she 
met in Scotland was the artist David Scott, who painted a portrait 
of Emerson. She appreciated his lofty genius and the painful limita- 
tion which checked its expression. 

She remained in England and France until February, 1847. I do 
not find any very marked influence from these six months of travel. 
She had great intellectual and social pleasure, and undoubtedly 
reviewed many of her past studies and opinions, but no new enthu- 
siasms seem to have been awakened. 

After some further travel in the Italian cities and Switzerland she 
finally settled herself in Rome for the winter, where, as she said, "All 
mean things were forgotten in the joy that rushed over me like a flood." 
She then found the precious friends whose names have become 
inseparably connected with hers: "The Milanese Madame Arconati, 
Marchesa Visconti,and a Polish lady, the Princess Radzivill." Hor 
wjjole sympathy was with the party of progress, and the rapid unroll- 
ing of events in 1848 made an occasion for her. " Such a time as I 
have always dreamed of," she says. She saw the uprising against 
Austria — the Austrian arms burned in the public square. 

When Mazzini returned from his seventeen years of exile she was 
able to stand by his side. 

She saw the Republic established ; she saw it fall. In April, 1849, 
Rome was besieged by the French army. Already, however, even a 
deeper motive, a closer tie, bound her to the fortunes of her beloved 
Italy. 

As I have said elsewhere, Margaret's nature, though verj'' strong, 
brave, and intellectual, was essentially and truly womanly. She had an 
earnest craving for love, and in her private journal are expressions of 
her keen, deep feeling of the want of it. She thought of marriage and 
motherhood in tlieir highest relations, and yet with her usual keen 
sight and balanced thought she tried to weigh the advantage as well 
as the loss of her own single life. "No one loves me ! But I love 
many a good deal, and see some way into their eventual beauty, and am 
myself growing better and shall by and by be a worthy object of love." 
This is very characteristic, her confidence in her permanent esseu- 



214 APPENDIX. 

tial self and her recognition of present short-comings. She sees that 
love brings its fetters and she questions when she looks, not at the 
ideal but the actual, if it be not a privilege to be free from them. 
But " she hopes not to be made partial, cold, or ignorant by the is- 
olation." Again she says " I have no child, and the woman has so 
craved this experience that it has seemed that the want of it must 
paralyze me." I do not know whether she was generally fond of 
children, but to three of her friends' children her heart expanded as if 
they were her own. These were : Mr. Emerson's Waldo, for whom he 
wrote his matchless "Threnody ;" the beautiful Hermann Clarke, son 
of James Freeman Clarke ; and Pickie Greeley, the son of Horace 
Greeley. And all these died in their blooming childhood. On these 
was concentrated the love which might have been given to her own 
offspring. 

She suffered deeply from any seeming want of affection upon the 
part of her friends, and it was hard for her to accept anything short of 
the fullest recognition. 

It was in the temple of St. Peter that she first met the man who 
was to bring to her the fall treasures of love. Separated by chance 
from her companions, she was lost in the vastness of the great building 
and felt troubled and perplexed for a moment. 

A gentleman spoke to her and asked if he could aid her, and from 
that time became a frequent visitor and valued friend. 

The condition of Italy at this time occupied her mind very fully. 
The patriots were full of hope and courage and she sympathized in 
their aims and aspirations. The young Marquis Ossoli had been 
brought up under aristocratic influences and his family did not take 
the part of the patriots, but he was already inclined to their side, and 
it is said that Margaret's influence had great power in determining 
his future course. The old Marquis Ossoli died during this winter, 
and the care of his illness devolved on his youngest son. During this 
time he spent daily a few moments with Margaret, sure of her sym- 
pathy and gaining strength from her, and it was immediately after his 
father's death that he disclosed his love and after a while convinced 
her that at least his happiness depended upon their union. 

I think it must have been nearly two years after her marriage when 
the fact became generally known in America, and the utter surprise and 
consternation of her friends was evident. Of course those who had 
never truly known her or always disliked her were quite ready with. 



MARGARET FULLER. 215 

ridicule and blame for anything so unconventional and imprudent as 
secret marriage and motherhood, while her true friends could only feel 
sure that she would always be true to herself and be fully justified 
when the whole truth became known. The final result warranted 
their confidence in her truth, generosity, and nobleness. 

They were secretly married in December, 1847, and remained in 
Rome until the spring. Her letters to her friends in America at this 
time are wholly filled with the public conditions in Italy, with slight 
allusions to her own changed condition. In May she went to Rieti, a 
little mountain town, and here her child was born September, 1848. 
How hard it must have been to her not to confide her new joy and her 
new anxieties to her tender mother is shown in her letter to her 
mother from Rome, Novenaber 16 ; but her fear lest the knowledge of 
her marriage and motherhood would give her great anxiety, and also 
the effect which this fact might have upon her husband's interests, as 
he was engaged in litigation with his brothers who were entirely de- 
voted to the old regime in politics, constrained her still to silence. 
She writes very cheerfully of her surroundings at Rome, althougli she 
speaks of the terrible excitement in the city consequent on the assas- 
sination of the minister Rossi. 

Of course the news of the marriage vvas received so suddenly, and 
so little was really told, that the wildest conjectures had full chance 
for expression. It was asserted that Ossoli was a man of very in- 
ferior birth, of no education, and unequal to Margaret in every respect, 
and, still more strangely, that he married her believing her to be 
possessed of a large fortune. 

It is true that he was not equal to her intellectually, either in 
natural gifts or in acquirement. He was brought up in good society 
but mainly educated by an old priest, and Margaret herself says, " Of 
all that is contained in books he is absolutely ignorant." From this 
probably arose the report, which I ^ have had to correct, that he could 
neither read nor write. Fortunately we have his own letters in dis- 
proof of this statement. But he appears, both from the testimony 
of those friends of Margaret who knew him and from her own account, 
to have been one of those rare, fine, intuitional natures who know the 
heart of things better than things themselves. She says : " He has 
excellent practical sense ; has been a judicious observer of all that 
passed before his eyes ; he has a nice sense of duty, which in its 
unfailing minute activity, may put most enthusiasts to shame ; a very 



216 APPENDIX. 

svfeet temper, and great native refinement. His love for me has been 
unswerving and most tender. I have never suffered a pain that he 
could relieve. His devotion when I am ill is to be compared only 
to yours. His delicacy in trifles, his sweet domestic graces remind 
me of E. In him I have found a home, and one that interferes with 
110 tie." 

When we remember how Margaret's keen-sighted truth saw her 
friends so clearly, surely we can feel satisfied that she had found a 
true mate in whom love made all things to fit. Another time she 
said, "He gives me all that even my exacting heart can ask." Yet, 
true to her nature, she analyzes and questions the relations and the 
effect on her present and future life. 

Still, she says, " The great novelty, the immense gain to me is my re- 
lation with my child. I thought the mother's heart lived in me be- 
fore, but it did not ; I knew nothing about it." Then she tells of the 
thousand fears which crowded on her heart as she had pictured the 
perils to which he miglit be exposed, but when he was born her " deep 
melancholy changed at once into rapture." 

The perils of her motherhood were no vain dream. The little 
creature born in the solitary mountain town was soon left there while 
his mother was obliged to rejoin her husband in Rome and partake of 
all the dangers to which he was exposed, besides enduring the misery 
of separation from her darling. 

On her labors with her pen depended the future support of herself 
and her child. She had already begun her work on Italy, and it was 
necessary for her to be in the stream of the events then passing at Rome, 
that she might give the narration truth and life. She writes to 
Ossoli, " Think always in seeking a house for me not to pledge me to 
stay in Rome. It seems to me often that I cannot stay long without 
seeing the baby. He is so dear, and life seems to me so uncertain, I 
do not know how to leave my dear ones. It is necessary that I 
should be in Rome at least a month, to write and also to be near you, 
but I wish to be free to return here if I feel too anxious for him, too 
suffering. love, how difficult is life ! But you, you are good. If 
it were only possible for me to make you happy ! " 

It was indeed a time when history was making fast in Rome. The 
Pope from whom so much had been hoped had not been able to with- 
stand the influences of his cardinals, and did not understand the sullen 
silence of the people until his confidence was rudely broken by the 



MARGARET FULLER. 217 

murdei- of the minister Eossi at tlie very entrance of the chamber of 
deputies, and soon after the Pope, imploring the protection of the King 
of Naples, fled to Gaeta. The good time seemed really come for Italy, 
and the Romans were quiet and sure in their rejoicings. Margaret 
saw all this short-lived joy, but she also saw the danger ahead. In 
this case she said, "Will France basely forfeit every 'pledge and every 
duty, to say nothing of her true interest ? " During this time Margaret 
twice escaped for a few days to visit her babe and was delighted to 
see him well and plump. She returned to Rome about the middle of 
April to find the French already in Italy, 

In Rome Margaret again met Mazzini, who always remained her 
ideal of a patriot and, as she says, of a prince. She says " he was in 
appearance more divine than ever, after all his new strange sufferings." 

Now also Margaret found new employment for her loving energies. 
Her friend the Countess of Belgioso organized the hospitals and on 
the 30th of April, 1849, she wrote as follows : 

Dear Miss Fcller,— You are named Superintendent of the Hospital 
of the Fate Bene Fratelli. When you arrive there you will receive all the 
women coming for the woundod, and give them your directions, so that 
you are sure to have a number of them night and day. 

May God help us : 

Christine Trivulze, of Belgioso. 

This new work called out the full riches of Margaret's loving devo- 
tion. She writes to Mr. Emerson, " Since the 30th of April I go almost 
daily to the hospitals, and though I have suffered, for I had no idea 
before how terrible gun-shot wounds and wound fever are, yet I have 
taken great pleasure in being with the men. There is scarcely one 
who is not moved by a noble spirit." 

" Night and day," writes Mrs. Story, " Margaret was occupied, and 
with the Princess so ordered the hospitals that their conduct was ad- 
mirable. I have walked through the wards with Margaret and have 
seen how comforting was her presence to the poor suffering men ; and 
all this time the most terrible fighting was going on, and Ossoli was 
stationed in a post of danger on the walls of the Vatican, and as 
the men were brought wounded and dying to the hospitals Mar- 
garet looked eagerly to see whether her husband were among them. 
Margaret watched the departure of the brave defenders and never had 
she seen a sight so beautiful, so romantic, and so sad." 



218 APPENDIX. 

Her extreme anxiety made her so ill that she feared for her life, and 
she called Mrs. Story to her side, and told her the story of her mar- 
riage and motherhood, confiding to lier important papers relating to her 
marriage and her son's rights of inheritance. The same confidence 
was reposed on our minister, Mr. Cass, on the day when she proposed 
to spend the night with Ossoli on the ramparts, where he was directly 
exposed to the fire of the French artillery. 

The fate of Home was sealed, and the moment the gates were open 
Margaret flew to her child at Rieti. She arrived just in time to save 
her boy, wlio had been cruelly neglected by his nurse. He was " worn 
to a skeleton, too weak to smile or lift his little wasted hand." Four 
weeks of care and nursing brought his fir.st returning smile, and then 
came a season of blessed quietness for Margaret and her dear ones. It 
was a great relief that the necessity of concealment of her marriage 
was at an end ; and her friends and relatives at home received the 
.startling news with loving sympathy, — her mother especially. As 
Margaret says: 

" She blessed us. She rejoiced that she should not die feeling there 
was no one left to love me with the devotion she thought I needed. 
She expressed no regret at our poverty, but offered her feeble means." 

The following winter was spent in Florence, where, though sad for 
the fallen hopes of Italy, the little family were happy in each other. 
Margaret's letters are full of her joy in her child, and she recalls her 
own cliildish life in his. They speak too most tenderly of her hus- 
band and her love of him, as well as of his for her. 

She pursued her literary studies and work, especially on the history 
of Italy, from which she hoped so much and which is totally lost. Of 
this work she wrote to her brother, and hopes to see the end of the 
political struggle, which slie tliinks will be within the year. She is 
confident tliat her work, if she can accomplish it, will be a worthy 
chapter of the history of the world, a possession forever for man. 

Gla.lly would we linger long over these last days. Full of tender 
love and joy for her husband and cliild, yet with a heart fondly turned 
again to her own land and the loved ones there, so that she says it is 
in itself a vast blessing to be born an American, with her intellectual 
powers ripened by this rich experience, and, as she says, "my heart 
in some respects better and kinder and more humble," not yet forty 
years old, what might not life offer to her ; what might she not yet 
do for herself and for us ! 



MARGARET FULLER. 219 

Prof. Villari saj's, " What was the American Margaret Fuller in 
Boston and New York compared with the poor and solitary Marghe- 
rita among the steep mountains of Rieti, with the babe on her knees, 
lost in a delirium of affection, blest in the smile of her Angelo ! " Ah, 
she was the same Margaret whose nature had been fed by every joy 
and sorrow of her young life, who was already living in '"'thousand 
lives, in breasts of lovers true " whose minds and hearts she had 
kindled to truth and love. 

To Italy it was given to see her noonday light, but how we longed 
for her to come back to us in the joy and glory of wifehood and 
motherhood. But for us was the sudden setting in clouds and dark- 
ness. But for us is also the resurrection and immortality. She lived 
a few years of concentrated and blessed though suffering life in Italy. 
But is she to-day to Italy what she is to our new life, to our young 
womanhood who understand and believe in her, and are working for 
their own sex and humanity, as she would have lived and worked if 
the full measure of life had been granted herl She was robbed of 
the last precious years of woman's life, when all the unsatisfied longings 
and stormy impulses of youth, and the richer joys of middle life with 
its deep home companionships and responsibilities for other lives have 
moulded the mind to that solid and sweet wisdom which gives its 
rich fruit to the coming generation and sows seed for all future time. 
It is for us to fulfil it for her. 

Before passing to the last tragic scenes I wish to give you two anec- 
dotes which illustrate her wonderful personal power over even strangers. 

It happened, some time before the coming of the French, while 
Margaret was travelling quite by herself, that she rested for an hour at 
a little wayside osteria. She was startled by the padrone, who with 
great alarm rushed into the room and said : " We are quite lost ! here 
is the legion Garibaldi. These men always pillage, and if we do not 
give them all without pay, they will kill us ! " Margaret looked and 
saw that the legion was indeed coming with all speed. For a moment 
she felt uncomfortable, for she thought that they might take the horses 
and so leave her without means of proceeding on her journey. On 
they came and she determined to give them a lunch at her own ex- 
pense. Accordingly, as soon as they arrived and rushed boisterously 
into the osteria, she rose and said to the padrone, "Give these good 
men wine and bread on my account, for after their ride they must need 
refreshment." Immediately the noise and confusion subsided; with 



220 APPENDIX. 

respectful bows to her they seated themselves and partook of the 
lunch, giving her an account of the journey. When she was ready to 
go and her vettura at the door, they waited upon her, took down the 
steps, and assisted her with much gentleness of manner, and she drove 
off, wondering how men with such natures could have the reputation 
they had. 

On another occasion two contadini at Rieti being in a violent 
quarrel had rushed, upon each other with knives. Margaret was 
called by the women bystanders. She went up to the men, whose 
rage was truly awful to behold, and stepping between them com- 
manded them to separate. They parted, but with such a look 
of deadly revenge, that Margaret felt her work was but half accom- 
plished. She sought them out separately, and talked with each, 
urging forgiveness. 

It was long before she could see any change of purpose, but after 
repeated conversations she brought about her desire and saw them 
meet as friends. Her reputation as peacemaker was great, and women 
came to her with long tales of trouble, urging her intervention. 

But the time had come when Margaret felt that she must leave her 
adopted country, with the heavy cloud still resting about it, and return 
to her early home. Here she must find the means of life for the sup- 
port of her little family. It was with hard conflicts of feeling that she 
decided upon this needful step, and dark forebodings came over her 
anxious heart. She engaged passage in a merchant ship, the "Eliza- 
beth," praying fervently " that it may not be my lot to lose my boy at 
sea, either by iinsolaced illness or by the howling waves, or if so, that 
Ossoli, Angelo, and I may go together and that the parting may be 
brief." 

The seventeenth of May, the day of sailing, came, but even then 
Margaret almost shrank from the step slie was taking. But every- 
thing appeared so promising that she crowded back her presentiments 
and went on board the fated ship. Alas, her presentiments were soon 
verified. Before they reached Gibraltar the captain died of small-pox, 
and a few days after the little Angelo sickened with the same fearful 
disease. By the wise care of his parents he recovered fully, however, 
and the sliip peacefully pursued her way until the shores of America 
were insight. Their trunks were packed for the shore, and with grate- 
ful, loving hearts Ossoli and Margaret put their child to bed for the 
last time at sea, as they thought. 



MARGARET FULLER. 221 

By nine o'clock the breeze increased to a gale, and by miilnight to a 
hurricane. Yet, in their new and strong vessel there was little alarm 
until about four o'clock in the morning, when she struck upon the 
beach at Fire Island. 

I cannot picture to you the details of tlie scenes? that followed, th(3 
fright of the child, whom Margaret soothed to sleep on her bosom, and 
the despair of the maid, whom Ossoli calmed by prayer and kindness. 
Those on board used every effort to save them, but Margaret refused to 
be separated from her husband and child, and they were swept into the 
sea together. 

Of all Margaret's treasures only the lifeless body of the beautifid 
child was borne to the shore and saved. It was tenderly wrapped in 
his own little robe, found in the mother's trunk, and laid by the 
sailors in the soft sand, from wliich it was taken and afterwards 
laid in the cemetery of Mt. Auburn, where a monument is raised 
sacred to the memory of the blessed three. 

Her great work on Italy was hopelessly lost ! But her greater 
work in Italy is not lost, is not forgotten by the generous people whom 
she loved and served ; and her work for humanity and for woman is 
not lost while wo gather together in her name to learn of her spirit 
and to consecrate ourselves to carrying on her work. 

In 1857 an interesting article on Margaret Fidler Avas publislied by 
Pasquale A^illari, who has since become not only one of the most ac- 
complished scholars, but one of the ablest statesmen of the new Italy, 
being Minister of Education for several years, and earning from the 
people the well-deserved title of " The minister who tells the truth." 
He is well known to American readers by his biographies of Machia- 
velli and Savonarola, as well as by many important essays. 

It does not appear that he enjoyed the personal acquaintance of 
Madame Ossoli, but he speaks the feeling of his fellow-countrymen 
towards her, and gathers for them the brief notices of her early life 
from the first biography then recently published. 

But his estimate of her love for and her services to his beloved 
country interests us. Among those generous souls who have held 
Italy as dear to them as their own native land, he says, " One was 
certainly the American Margaret Fuller, who was wont to say to her 
friends, " I believe that I had a life before this, and that I was then 
born in Italy." 

After telling the story of her life in Italy, of her marriage, mother- 



222 APPENDIX. 

hood, and tragic death, which is familiar to us from the same sources 
from which he draws it, he thus closes: — • 

"So finished the life of a woman who dedicated to Italy her dearest affec- 
tions, her deepest thoughts, who even in her childhood sighed to live in this 
our country ; for in it she felt for the first time the vigor and force of her 
life, and in it only it seemed jjossible to live. And when misfortune and 
poverty consti'ained her to exile in America, one thought alone consoled 
her; that of recounting the new glories and new misfortunes of the country 
of her choice. Could Italy repay such love with forgetfulness?" * 

* Sii,s;gi di Stovia, di Critica, e di Politica per Pascjuale Villari, Nuovamente 
Raccolti e Riveduti dall' Autore. Firenze : Tifografia Cavour, Via Cavour, No. 
560. 1868. 



THE KEIGN OF WOMANHOOD. 223 



THE REIGN OF WOMANHOOD. 

Address hy Mrs. Ednah D. Cheney in the Mechanics Institute, June 20, 
1897, on the Occasion of the Unitarian Service in Commemoration 
of the Queen's Diamond Jubilee. 

So God created man in His own image, in the image of God created He him ; 
male and female created He them. — Genesis i. 27. 

This one verse contains a condensed statement of the great beginning 
of creation. First, God created man in His own image, and this is 
repeated, in the image of God created He him ; then as duality 
begins to appear, male and female created He them, and the history 
of mankind in its struggle begins to be related. 

The problem of our age is womanhood ; and therefore on this day 
when we celebrate the longest, the most prosperous and peaceful 
reign which England has ever known, and under the beneficent 
guiding hand of a true woman, it is becoming for us to consider this 
great problem, not so much in its outward and practical form, which 
it will take our next century to work out, as in its inner meaning, 
and in reference to the eternal principles which alone will lead us to 
its final and triumphant solution. 

For tlie true meaning .of this primal question of sex does not con- 
sist alone of the outward form, which envelops the human spirit, but 
in its essential spirit. We are seeking to fathom the secret of life and 
to enter into the purposes of creation. "We are trying, if not to com- 
prehend, at least to apprehend the thought of God, when out of the 
peaceful unity of being He brought all this complex, warring, jarring 
life of creation, in which the two forces ever tending to reunion and 
mutual action are the necessary condition of all life. Sex as the 
, most universal manifestation of the first step in creation is traceable 
througbout all life, and for perfect knowledge of it we must study it 
alike iu the formation of the zoophyte as in the imagination of the 
angelic natures. Such cannot be the work of a brief hour. Only a 
sketch of the essential points can be given. This great mystery, how 
out of the One comes first the two, and out of the twain again come 



224 APPENDIX. 

the many, confronts us everywhere, in science, in life, in ruetapliysics, 
in religion. 

We, as Unitaiians, may rightfully give up the narrow form of a 
Trinity which saw the incarnation of God in one mystic Being alone, 
and not in all the wondrous world of life, but we cannot get away 
from the philosophic Trinity which recognizes the One, the All, the 
two through which unity acts, and the resulting third which is the 
Spirit of Life, making possible all this universe of infinite variety and 
yet underlying harmony. 

You will find this Trinity, which has its representation in sex, 
running through all the phenomena of life which we investigate by 
science. It is as true and as easily exemplified in the most practical 
mechanics, the most subtle chemistr}'', as in the sublimest astronomy. 

•' It is as high as heaven ; it is deep as hell." No mythology 
can begin to read the riddle of the universe, but it has to meet the 
question of man and woman. Poetry is never weary of celebrating 
this relation, and finding every charm and glory of the universe but 
a symbol of its power and beauty. Law has a maxim that " every- 
thing has a w^oman in it," and until you get at the part she has played 
in the case you are groping in the dark. Goethe, who well knew the 
importance of this thought, has expressed his Trinity in the simplest 
form of the joy qf family life. 

After the birth of Euphorion, tlie mystical child of love, the chorus 

sing, 

" Love in human wise to bless us, 
In a noble pair must be, 
But divinely to possess us, 
It must form a perfect Tiiree." 

In the most ancient religions known to us the human mind has 
recognized that the duality which it finds in life has its origin in the 
divine nature. Samuel Johnson says of the old Hindu writings that 
" tliey treat both sexes as equally necessary to the conception of Deity. 
Creation proceeds from the divine love or desire becoming twain, male 
and female." 

The Hebrew saw tlie same truth expressed in the manifestation, 
" God created man in His own image ; male and female created He 
them," and the latest scientist traces the whole evolution of this 
duality running through the mineral world, and becoming ever clearer 
through the whole range of vegetable and animal life, until it blooms 



THE REIGN OF WOMANHOOD. 225 

out in the beauty of human love, and the whole earth in its springtide 
of beauty resounds with the divine epithalaniiuui, the marriage song 
of insect and bird which call to eacli other from treetop to treetop"^ 
" God is love and we are His offspring." 

The same thought runs through the Egyptian, Phoenician, Baby- 
lonian and other primitive religions. It becomes somewhat obscured 
in Christian theology, because of the tendency to dogma in the Chris- 
tian church, but; it has still always existed there in the essential 
thought of the Trinity, and in the very inadequate, though beautiful 
symbolism which accepted the Virgin Mary, the mother of Jesus, as 
the Divine Mother of mankind. And so necessary is this recognition 
to the human heart that the honor and love due to the primal Infinite 
God, or to His representative in humanity, the Divine Son, was 
almost obscured by the tenderer trust and affection given to the Queen 
of Heaven. In our own day this great thought has again found ex- 
pression from the deep heart of Theodore Parker, whose reverent 
invocation to the Source of all good, as "our Father and Mother, too," 
will never be forgotten by those who were wont to hear it. 

It is an interesting coincidence which shows how the highest things 
of heaven are mirrored in the humblest human life, that the poor 
widow whose welfare th'e great sculptor, Michael Angelo, made his 
care, addresses him in her letter of gratitude as "My father and my 
mother, too." 

In his greatest poem, Faust, the German Goethe, the leading tliinker 
and poet of our age, has given immortal expression to the tirought of 
the divine womanhood, in the line which is spoken by the clinrus 
Mysticus at the close of the man's life-long struggle, and' which opens 
the way to his redemption : 

" Das Ewig Weibliche zielit uns hinan." 
(The Eternal AVomanly leadeth us on.) 

The word " eternal " makes the grand thought of this line. Woman 
is not an accident of creation, a necessity of eartldy life, a second 
thought of God, who found man too lonely if left to himself, and 
who therefore made for him a pleasing toy to charm his leisure hours 
and soothe him when ill or weary. It is not woman as a minister 
to earthly pleasure that leadeth us on. It is the eternally womanly, 
as truly divine, as essential to the order of being as the manly, whJ 
is to lead the soul upward and onward, into that entire oneness' with 

15 



226 APPENDIX. 

God which is redemption and Heaven. " What a promise of con- 
tinual life and fresh creation is there in these words, what abounding 
love, what infinite hope." What leadetli us on 1 The attractive 
principle, the love which receives impulse and becomes creative. It is 
at once attraction which stimulates action and the centripetal power 
which holds action true to its centre. While the degradation of 
womanhood is the most terrible evil of all time, our own fully in- 
cluded, while the actual manifestations of it, the fearful, unspeakable, 
appalling sin, misery, shame, the leprosy of soul and body resulting 
from it, fill us witli a loathing, a horror, a despair of God and man, 
which almost turn the sun to blood and the dearest hopes of life to 
misery, there remains yet one Pole Star of Faith which shines througli 
the gloomiest darkness and gives us hope that humanity can never 
wholly lose its way, but is bound to the eternal throne of God by a 
link that can never be wholly broken. The lowest, vilest man does 
not willingly lose his ideal of woman, does somehow cherish some 
feeling of motherhood, some belief in an unselfish love, some little 
gleam of romance in his heart, some sense that a woman's prayers are 
more powerful than his curses, some tlnniglit of the child that might 
have clung about his kneevS, some recognition that there is a power of 
love, an " eternally womanly " that may yet lead him upward and on 
to redeemed life out of the very jaws of death and hell. Hence, men 
judge actual women so severely as not answering to their ideal. You 
remember when the miners of California, living for months and years 
their wild, half-savage life, heard that an emigrant train was coming, 
bringing women in their company, they exclaimed : " Thank God, the 
women are coming to make us better." They knew not who they 
were ; they might be the very refuse of the slums of the cities, driven 
out by dishonor and vice, but the men did not think of that ; they 
recognized the " eternally womanly " and the first thought was the 
manly, noble one : " They have come to make us better." The nat- 
ural religion of these rough men clung to their ideal and hoped thence 
their salvation. As Goethe said : "Aly idea of woman is not ab- 
stracted from the phenomena of actual life, but has been born within 
me. God knows how ! " 

Man's relation to woman is the great fact of his moral life. If he 
fails in it, no matter how the world may condone his fault, it saps 
tlie very strength of his manhood, and as Shakespeare so truly says, 
" Our pleasant vices are made the whips to scourge us." None but 



THE REIGN OF WOMANHOOD. 227 

the poor victim can fully know how keen are the tortures, how bitter 
the humiliations that follow. But does man alone need to worship 
a lofty ideal born instead of the Spirit, but most blessed also when 
revealed in flesh and blood 1 Does not woman, too, need to feel the 
thrill of equal divinity in her partner and companion ? When it is 
claimed that women should take their share of the active work and 
vital responsibility of the world's life we often hear men say, " Oh, 
we do not want woman brought down from her lofty pedestal ; we 
want our ideal kept high and pure." Do you ever think that woman, 
too, must have her ideal of man kept pure and holy 1 Can she touch 
pitch and not be defiled 1 Her ideal of man must match her own 
standard of spiritual purity and truth, or instead of leading him on 
she is dragged down to the dust with him. The whole meaning of 
sex is mutual relation and the one sex must be fit to mate the other. 
" All are needed by each one ; nothing is fair or good alone." A man 
expressed to me the other day his hopelessness of the moral condition 
of his own sex, which he believed was sinking lower and lower in 
depravity. I could not, would not, despair with him, and I find my 
best hope in the fact that the noblest men everywhere are earnestly 
longing that a higher standard, a standard as high for them as for 
women, shall be held up before them, and that the women of actual 
life whom they meet day by day should demand of them the strictest 
fidelity to it. 

If the human heart was not satisfied in its earliest efforts to draw 
near to the secrets of life without the recognition of the woman, the 
mother, in God, whence came then the debasing views of woman which 
have had such sway in the world and have produced such corruption 
and misery that we shrink from any effort to portray it? Even the 
effort to express this dual thought of God, mingled with an anthropo- 
morphism which, " making of God even such a one as themselves," 
has enlarged the selfish, narrow passions of humanity into universal 
proportions, until the great fact of evil and sin covered the whole 
sphere of thought and religion. This tremendous problem of the 
existence of evil demanded a solution. Man must have been wholly 
divine, pure in his origin ; wiiat could have separated him from God 1 
It must be a power almost equal to God that could thus strive against 
and often seemingly overcome him ; and, as this power was subtle and 
wise after its kind, and knew that when the best is turned to evil it 
becomes the worst, so the evil power sought his instrument in woman, 



228 APPENDIX. 

the embodiment of love, and she came to express in the popular the- 
ology, not the upward, redeeming sonrce of good, but the arch tempt- 
ress to sin and evil. Thus woman in many mythologies is both the 
tempter and savior. She represents attractive love, and that love is 
capable of being the greatest incentive to good or the most fearful 
impulse to evil, as it is received and developed. So in Hebrew 
thought woman is the tempter; yet the pure mother bringing forth 
the sou, that is, restoring the whole, the harmony brings also salva- 
tion. So even the thought of fatherhood and motherhood became 
tainted with sin, and the monstrous doctrine, which lies like a heavy 
pall over the sweet region of theology, the doctrine of innate depravity 
and total alienation from God, being conceived and born in sin, has 
carried its message of doubt, despair, and hate into the fairest regions 
of life. Against it the doctrine of the divine motherhood is perpetu- 
ally striving, and it is to the recognition of the holiness of the feminine 
principle that we must look for the regeneration of the world. Jesus 
set a little child in the midst of them and said, " Of such is the king- 
dom of heaven." Could He have been thinking of him as the offspring 
of the devil 1 In the Christian church the two opposite conceptions 
of woman have remained side by side struggling with each other ; but 
where in the words of Jesus Himself, even when He speaks to one who 
culls herself a sinner, is there ever a want of recognition of the love 
to which all will be forgiven ? There was a time when woman was 
the type of all evil, and when the deepest and lioliest of human rela- 
tions could not be consecrated within the walls of a cliurch. It was a 
great step in the recognition of her nature when marriage was recog- 
nized as a sacrament, a symbol of that divine union which can alone 
promote harmony and life. Even now it is felt tliat the presence of 
woman desecrates many of the holy places of the church, and, while 
the Virgin is honored, and saints and martyrs are objects of prayer 
and devotion, the human, living mother is not received into tlie active 
service and honors of the church. Nor are our Protestant skirts free 
from this reproach, while large bodies of religious men refuse to hear 
the divine message if it come from the lips of a woman. Yet in all 
religions and all mythologies woman has had direct reception from 
divinity and become the inspired prophetess. Tliere is one aspect 
of the religious veneration for woman which, while it has its deep 
meaning and beautiful e.xpression, has yet worked great mischief, 
because it is partial and not the whole truth. In the ancient religions 



THE REIGN OF WOMANHOOD. 229 

we find that it is mainly as the human mother that woman is honored. 
As a wife she is loved indeed, but loved as a -possession, and this 
love, so often selfish and exacting, allied so closely to selhsh enjoy- 
ment and the lust of power, has thus become the greatest of dangers, 
the worst of foes to woman. It is only the mother who has always 
claimed a certain independent value and secured a measure of pure 
honor and respect, and even this feeling is vitiated by the sellish 
superstition that, as the father of sons whom she has brought to 
him the lasting glory of the man is secure. Thus even in the deepest 
corruption of womanhood something of jjurity and nobility and truth 
has lingered about the idea of motherhood, and its power to restore 
purity to the soul, and hope to the life, is acknowledged even in 
those whom the world counts as lost. The Koran says : " Woman 
is admitted to paradise only when she becomes a mother." If woman 
is not immortal by nature she is not worthy to become a mother. 
She cannot give immortal life to her son. Until it recognizes the 
true essential life of woman, Islam will always be a partial, not a 
universal religion. That this is the greatest distinctive function of 
earthly womanhood who will deny 1 But sin, falsehood, misery come 
in whenever we separate one function, however important, from the 
Avhole of life. Wholeness is holiness, and when we assume to cut 
off one part we destroy the harmony, we vitiate the purity of the 
whole. Fatherliood, too, is great and holy, so holy that we have 
transferred its name to the One, the Author of all good, but father- 
hood is not the only duty of humanity. We reverence tlie Roman 
father who sacrificed his son at the bidding of the public law which 
he had sworn to support. Woman is a mother ; but she is more than 
a mother. She is a living, immortal soul. She is a child of God and 
she is bound to fulfil all life and all righteousness as much as man is. 
Her life, her duty as wife and mother is great and holy. But she has 
a larger responsibility to the State, to her own soul, to truth and 
righteousness, to the Infinite Whole. God is a very jealous God, and 
will accept no human relation as before the high allegiance to His 
truth. You remember, in Scott's beautiful story, the sore trial of the 
noble Jeanie Deans, who will not save her sister's life at the cost of 
truth ; and the same courage which enabled her. to hold true to right 
in spite of the entreaties of the poor girl, and most of all of her own 
loving heart, gives her the strength for the great eff"ort which can 
redeem her sister and keep God's law unbroken. 



230 APPENDIX. 

There is an old legend, well told by Chancer, of the wife Griselda, 
a poor peasant maiden beloved and wedded by a rich lord. After she 
had become the mother of his cliildren he tcfok the fancy to try her 
virtue (for he and she deemed absolute submission and self-sacrifice to 
be the sum of all virtue for a woman) by driving her from her home 
and children back to the peasant's hut from which he took her. She 
yields uncomplainingly, and separated from her home spends long 
years in poverty and exile, only to be restored to her cliildren when 
the tyrant's greed of power was satisfied. 

James Russell Lowell well says : " No woman approves Griselda, 
and I would not wish a woman for my wife who did. She sacri- 
ficed all other duties to one she had taken a fancy to." 

So woman has too often accepted a fancied duty, a romantic virtue, 
instead of recognizing her whole relation to God and humanity, which 
demands of her the full development of her nature, and the employ- 
ment of every God-given faculty. And as " he who loseth his life for 
my sake shall find it," so the seeming sacrifice of the partial duty to 
tlie higher will give her back to the nobler fulfilment of the nearest 
and tenderest ties. " I could not love thee, dear, so much, loved- 1 not 
honor more." With the exclusive acceptance of special function has 
gi'own the idea of woman as an accident of creation, an adjunct to the 
masculine type of humanity, created for his enjoyment and help, and 
having no right to seek her own fulness of life and action. Every 
great error is related to some great trutli so closely that it is often 
very hard to separate them. So this false idea which has engen- 
dered all woman's wretchedness and fatal wrong to herself and others 
is nearly related to the great truth that the idea of womanhood always 
suggests that of relation. S.ymbolizing as she does the attractive forces 
of existence, beauty winning to union, the part never complete with- 
out its complement, in one all-comprehensive word, love. 

Woman is constantly tending towards relation, and her happiness is 
not complete, her life is not fulfilled except in recognition of the life 
of others, in perpetual receiving from and giving out to others. 

You will tell me and tell me correctly that this is also true of man, 
and that the highest man is no more self-dependent than the most 
loving woman. 

But this trutli of relation which has been emphasizedand developed, 
though often- in the poorest waj', as regards woman, has been obscured 
in man, as he has so largely taken the material aggressive part of the 



THE KEIGN OF WOMANHOOD. 231 

life of the world, and as woman, in so far truly his worst enemy, has 
yielded to his exactions and fostered his pride of authoiity and 
self-love. 

But woman's ideal of man is as truly that of a nobly, grandly, un-. 
selfish self-forgetfulness as his of her. Philip Sydney, passing the 
water from his own fevered lips to those of his dyin^ fellow-soldier, 
is dearer to her memory than the conqueror of a battle-field, and 
Charles Lamb, giving up his own dearest hopes in life to shelter his 
unfortunate sister, is beloved and reverenced in spite of many a 
failing. 

You may smile at the trifling anecdote I tell you, but the thought 
of it has remained with me nearly sixty years. On my first long 
journey to the mountains, as we stopped at a hotel, and the elders were 
making arrangements for rooms, I overheard a bright young fellow 
say, " Oh, put me anywhere, it does not matter what I have." In my 
girlish innocence I thought, " What a blessed privilege of manhood 
which does not ask to be guarded and sheltered and pleased, but can 
have the higher part of serving others and renouncing his comfort for 
their good." This chance word gave me an ideal of manhood, which, 
thank God, I have never lost, and have seen realized in many a noble, 
many an humble soul. True manhood and true womanhood are ever 
appearing in various forms, for the two are one. I know not whether 
Coleridge is right in asserting, or Theodore Parker was Avrong in deny- 
ing, that there is sex in souls. I fear we shall h.ave to wait until we 
know more about souls and more about sex before we can settle 
that question ; but I do know that the outward form, even the dis- 
tinctive functions of sex, do not always secure the special characteris- 
tics which we suppose to belong to them ; or rather, I believe that, as 
we rise higher and higher in the scale of spiritual being, the differing 
qualities which we find expressed in sex are blended into a more per- 
fect harmony, and that out of the differentiation, out of the duality 
which is necessary for creation and life, we come ever and ever 
nearer to a restored harmony and unity of being. 

So when we consider the highest representatives of masculine hu- 
manity, Philip Sydney, Fenelou, St. Francis, Channing, and above all 
the great founders of religions, Buddha and our own blessed Jesus, 
we cannot but recognize in them the perfect blending of the finest 
womanly traits with the strength and power which we attribute to 
man. And so in woman, Joan of Arc, the girl warrior ; Elizabeth of 



232 APPENDIX. 

Hungary ; Catharine of Siena ; Louise of Prussia ; Florence Nightin- 
gale, — hold our reverence by their firm, manly courage and endur- 
ance, as much as they win our hearts by their feminine beauty and 
tenderness. 

Dr. Bartol says : " The ever womanly leadeth us on, but the ever 
manly, too." Attractions must become equal for harmony and peace. 

I have said that this is the era of womanhood. He who runs may 
read the prophecy (;f the future in the signs of the present. From 
Japan to Australia, in India, Russia, Finland, as well as in the fore- 
most countries of Europe and America, we hear the echoes of her 
onward tread, and those who fear its victory are helping it on by the in- 
terest and discussion they excite. Everywhere there is new recogni- 
tion of her rights and her duties. Tlie Mohammedan woman of India 
rides in her palanquin to the polls to vote, and the woman on her 
bicycle is no more a wonder on the streets than a baby in its go-cart. 
The young woman no longer jsrides herself on the delicacy of her con- 
stitution and the nervous weakness which screams at the sight of a 
spider, but guards her health as a precious possession, not to preserve 
her personal beauty, but to give her strength to do lier work. 

Everywliere there is fresh inquiry in woman's essential nature. 
Science seeks to discover it by the analogies of the zoophyte and the 
trilobite and the loves of plants ; and poetry finds it in the instincts 
of her heart. The great problem of the mutual relations between 
man and woman is the constant theme of discussion, and its solution 
varies from the old view, which gives all the lights to man and all 
the duties to women, to the sentimental dream which puts woman on 
a pedestal to be worshipped, instead of into the great school of life to 
be nourished and taught. 

The scale has dipped pretty heavily on one side, until it becomes 
very evident that something must be done to restore the balance, or 
civilization will fall of its own false position. There may be not a 
little jarring before it is rightly adjusted. Already there ai'e 
those who fear that man may have become so sure of his intellectual 
and bodily superiority that he is in danger of losing hold of his true 
equality, and that the liighest offices of life, the spiritual guiding of 
the child, the religious influence on the community, the aspiration for 
the highest purity are in danger of passing from his grasp, and he is 
likely to be left powerless and be obliged to give up the sceptre to 
woman. Was it not sadly significant when the great lawyer had to 



THE REIGN OF WOMANHOOD. "233 

say, "I don't understand Emerson; my gals do'"? It is said that, 
great lawyer as Jeremiah Mason was, this recognition that it required 
the feminine intuition to understand the highest mind of his time 
is the only thing likely to be remembered of him. 

Still sadder, still more alarming is the fact that man's grasp on 
moral truth has been in danger of loosening, and that in the selfish 
struggles of Iiis lower nature for power and enjoyment he has sold his 
birthright of integrity and pui'ity for the miserable pottage of sensual 
and worldly pleasure, A lute speaker on Evolution finds this the 
danger of the hour, and asserts that woman is now in the van of the 
world's progress of evolution, but that until she can draw man up to 
her standard of truth and purity the onward march of the world 
will be stayed. 

In the intellectual world the advance of woman is so rapid in 
comparison with that of the average man that educators are consider- 
ing it as a serious problem which may disturb the right equilibrium. 
The finer faculties of the brain in man are so much injured by 
indulgence in intoxicating liquor, in the use of tobacco from an early 
age, and from still more dangerous and sinful sensual indulgences, 
that the danger is serious that they may not be able to do their 
rightful share of the thinking and the best working of the woi'ld. 
My heart leaped with joy when I heard the other day of two young 
men who said : " No ; I cannot afford to drink ; I cannot consent to 
smoke ; it will hinder my power to do my work." And when I be- 
thought myself that the mother of that family was one of the most 
celebrated intellectual women of the country I felt how this noble 
spirit was born in them, and that " the eternally womanly was lead- 
ing them on." 

While pessimism has been rampant in our day and the degenera- 
tion of society has been the theme of philosophers and the despairing 
question, " Is life worth living 1 " is answered by a jest, there are 
gleams of hope and promise which show us that " the eternally 
womanly is still leading us on," and that man's noblest nature is 
asserting itself and struggling up to the same high aims. 

In our own day we are blessed with the reign of womanhood (long 
may it continue), which is enough to cheer our heai-ts and confirm 
our faitli in its ultimate power in the kingdom of man. 

England was wise indeed when she repudiated the salique law and 
recognized the right of the daughters of kings to their fathers' throne, 



234 ■ APPENDIX. 

even while her laws still held the common woman in abject servitude 
to her husband. By this means she has preserved an ideal of 
womanhood, an acknowledgment of her right in the universe, which, 
however partial and obscured, has kept an image for loyal devotion 
in the hearts of men, and has thus, by preserving for her a legitimate 
power, saved the nation from the basest influences. Michelet says : 
"France, which established the salique law, has always been ruled 
by the distaff." And the distaff has not been in the bands of the 
honest working-woman, but France has too often been ruled by the 
imjjerious false favorites of her kings, who, receiving nothing from 
their country, have given her nothing but treachery in return. 

For sixty years a woman has sat upon the throne of the foremost 
nation of Europe. Her name is known, beloved, and honored all 
around the earth, for the sun does not set upon the world that owns 
her sway. We do not claim her as an exceptional woman, but as a 
true woman. Not gifted with the dangerously fascinating beauty of 
Mary of Scotland, the genius of Elizabeth of England, or the daring 
of Catherine of Russia ; she is a typical woman, clear in her percep- 
tions of right, entire in her devotion to duty, loving and tender in her 
heart, holy and pure in her life. She has accepted the high position 
to which she was called by inheritance, with its heavy responsibili- 
ties, but has done so, not that the nation might be governed by her 
personal will, but that the whole wisdom of the past, as embodied in 
law and the best intelligence of the whole people; might find expres- 
sion in her action. 

She has not, in gaining the kingdom of the world, lost her own 
soul; she has preserved her personality untouched, the Queen in all 
public relations ; she has never forgotten her personal responsibility 
to her God in her private duties. 

She has fulfilled every function of human life with simple fidelity. 
Blessed, thrice blessed among queens, her marriage was consecrated 
by deep and lasting affection, and in the partner of her life she 
found a fitting mate, a true and no\)le man whom she could value 
and respect for his own worth, and whom she did not consider as the 
first of her subjects, but as her equal and life helper. To his inde- 
pendent thought and life England is largely indebted for many a 
noble work, as well as for the happiness which he brought to her 
Queen. The royal home was as sweet, and sacred as the peasant's 
cot. She has been the mother, not of future kings and queens alone. 



THE REIGN OF WOMANHOOD. 235 

but of immortal human souls, and she felt that only greater responsi- 
bility rested upon her to guide them aright, since on their fidelity 
might rest the welfare of millions of her fellow-men. 

What an influence has such a life, known and seen of all men, not 
exercised throughout the regions which have acknowledged her sway ! 
It seems as if it were indeed a shining light set upon a hill to show 
that the truest womanliness is in union with the broadest useful- 
ness, the widest relations of influence and responsibility. 

The last sixty years have not been a period of millennial peace. It 
has been a time of wars and revolutions upon the earth, teeming with 
the most burning questions of capital and labor, of races and 
religions, of systems of thought, of material changes. England has 
had her full share in all these movements. Far different is the Eng- 
land of to-day from that over which the young maiden was called to 
preside, but under the leading of the ever womanly it has gone up- 
ward and onward. It has known progress through struggles, alter- 
nations of misery and hope, bitter passions seeking vent in violent 
action, cruel indiff"erence to others' wrongs, and selfish quarrels for 
personal rights. 

But through it all we can look back and see a marked progress in 
moral as well as material growth, and it has come through reform 
and not through revolution. Can we not feel through all these years 
a calm, sweet influence which has made itself quietly felt through the 
turmoil, and held many a turbulent spirit under the mild check of a 
loyalty which was of love rather than of enforced obedience'? I am 
a born and bred Republican, yet I have long felt that the gracious 
influence of England's Queen has Vn-ooded like a benediction over all 
her people, and has done more to hold closer the ties of country in 
the far-off" homes of many an Englishman than any other influence. 
"I cannot forswear my allegiance to Queen Victoria" is the 
thouglit which fills the heart of many an emigrant and still holds it 
true to his native land. 

Thus in many diff'erent ways the "eternally feminine leadeth us 
on ; " thus it will more and more find its full expression in all depart- 
ments of the life of the world. 

Last week when I listened to the glorious celebration of our young 
martyr to liberty for the negro, Robert Shaw, the " Battle Hymn of the 
Republic " was sung. A chorus of male voices began the strain with a 
quick, sharp rhythm, which sounded like the quick tread of armed 



236 APPENDIX. 

men or a volley of musketry. It left something wanting to the ear 
and mind, of the majestic flow of a great nation's life ; but one by one 
the voices of the people began to mingle with the strain, and soon 
there came a sweet, harmonizing tone which seemed to float down 
from heaven, as the women's voices mingled with the music ; and the 
rattle of the guns appeared to cease, and the step to become more 
glad and free, and the watchword of the mystical chorus as they sang, 
" As He died to make men holy, let us die to make them free," i-e- 
called the beautiful voice and life of the young leader, and we felt 
the eternally feminine leadeth them. on. So will that feminine voice 
mingle more and more in the world's life and complete the full 
harmony. 

We are thankful to-day for the noble life of the Queen of these 
realms ; we are thankful for it as a history of human progress towards 
more and better national life ; but more than all do we prize it and 
thank God for it, as a prophecy of the finer, broader development 
of womanhood, and of the time when all the strength of manhood 
and all the love of womanhood shall be so blended in life that they 
shall bring us nearer to the kingdom of God, the reign of truth and 
peace. 



TO MRS. CHENEY.* 

Thy voice so clear, pei"suasive, half convinces 

Even before the mind receives tliy words ; 
For candor, tolerance, freedom from pretences 

Breathe in its penetrating fine accords. 
Yet so impersonal and pure thy pleading 

We think of thee less than what thou hast said, 
And follow all confidingly thy leading 

Unconscious we are led. 

Harriet W. Sewall. 



* Found among Mrs. Sewall's papers after her death. 



FIFTIETH BIRTHDAY. 237 



FIFTIETH BIRTHDAY, JUNE 27, 1874. 

Silver Cheney's golden day, 
Hastens with auspicious ray. 
She serene asks no delay. 

Fifty years that came and went, 
Full of labor and intent, 
"Were to her beneficent. 

Throned in philosophic ease. 
Yet her heart its errand sees, 
Near to human miseries. 

Lifting a victorious tone 

Where weak creatures faint and moan 

To a Zenith of her own. 

Some fair grace when she was born 
Said this white rose shall be worn 
Out of stain and out of thorn. 

Human love that did arise 
Fair and stately to her eyes 
Waits for her in Paradise. 

Human friendship claims her still 
Faith that crowns through good and ill 
The patient majesty of will. 

Flits our age in memory's glass^ 
Half we see but shadowy pass 
Ere other half is halved, alas ! 

Brief our dream of bliss or pain, 
But if earnest works remain 
Cheney hath not lived in vain. 

Julia Ward Howe, 



238 APPENDIX. 



PSYCHOMETEIC EEADINGS. 

The great interest felt by many friends in the psychometric 
readings of Miss P has led me to place here a few records. 

These records were made at the very time they were M-ritten, 
and I have given them unchanged, although naturally they were 
unmethodical and incomplete. I have abstained from writing 
more, because I hope that friends will sometime be enabled to 
produce a full and accurate report of this very interesting contri- 
bution to psychical thought. 

SETH WFXLS CHENEY. 

This letter gives me warmth — makes my fingers tingle. Are the 
person's lungs strong? I have soreness in chest. lie would eujoy 
this beautiful moonlight. The person feels deeply and strongly — 
not exactly ardent, but has a deep warmth — perhaps excitable and 
yet apparently calm. Feelings likely to be lasting and deep. 
Greater warmth and depth of feeling than he appears to have. He 
was deeply interested in the subject or in the one written to — some- 
thing about country — a wild country. A person of good though not 
great mind — active intellect. This letter gives me the impression 
of feeling rather than thought. The person would feel the beauties 
of nature. He loves the fine arts. He would want truth to nature 
in art to satisfy him. I cannot express my thought of the connection 
of art and nature in this person. He loves the fine arts — would see 
nature with an artist's eye, and art with eye of nature. Keener eye 
for beauties of art than those who are not artists have. Loves music 
— drawing — sculpture — deep enthusiasm. Is it Seth Cheney? 
Saw a lake — wild mountain — one softly beautiful. Switzerland 
comes to my mind.* 

March 3d, 1844. 

* This letter was written from Switzerland. 



PSYCHOMETIUC READINGS. 239 



JANE CHENEY. 



She feels she is misunderstood. Makes plays in words. 

When embarrassed sometimes appears flippant to hide what she is 
really feeling. 

Is she apt to be discouraged ? Is she a little obstinate 1 

Would anybody say she's a good old soul? 

Slow of development. 

One needs to be keen and sharp to make nice distinctions in this 
character. She is often misunderstood and it hurts her. Doesn't it 
make her less simple in action 1 Cautious and care-taking. Don't 
think she 'd set a house on fii-e. 

A little crotchety. Builds airy castles. 

Puts her hands behind her head. 

Very honorable. Pretty persevering. 

The peace she has sometimes is not constant. 

(E. D. C. asked) "Do you get an impression of her religious state 1 " 

Is it always clear — witty 1 

Doubtful, undecided, fond of children ; best nature comes out with 
children. I see her sitting on the floor playing with them. See her 
going around dusting or putting things in order and humming. It is 
funny I sit up so straight. Shy — a good deal of natural vivacity of 
thought and manner, but repressed by circumstances. 

Is she fond of you (to E. D. C.) ] Is she fond of petsi 

Is she natural? Don't like to be laughed at, rather see the ridicu- 
lous in others than hnve them see it in her. I feel it in my elbows 
— she nudges other people's elbows sometimes. Timid in some 
ways, courageous in others, — would stand up for one she loved, like 
an animal for her young. 

I don't want to get down into the sad places. Now I am in a 
snarl. Is she orderly"? Doesn't she play well with children 1 

(Question from E. D. C.) " What does she do with naughty 
children 1 " 

Ans. Did you ever have your ears boxed ] 

Isn't she jealous] 

A considerable power of conviction without povv^er of self-assertion. 

Timid and of a doubtful mind — slowness of thought. 

Does she get very tired 1 Every little while she gets so tired. 



240 APPENDIX. 

Don't you think she has a good deal of patient affection? 
She is warm-hearted. Don't you tliink sol 
Is she curious 1 

SAEAH MAEGARET FULLER. 

A good deal of life in it — burns — not the outside skin merely, 
but deep into the bone. I can hardly hold it (changes to another 
letter of the same person). This does not burn me like the other — 
in a different mood. 

" Is it sad or gay 1 " 

It seems lively and sad. 

" Has it thought or feeling 1 " 

It seems full of both. I like this person — one moment it seems 
near, the next distant. 

" Is it a large person or a limited one 1 " 

Very different impressions this person would give me from differ- 
ent points of view. 

•■' Is there much moral sentiment 1 " 

I was thinking of those limits you mentioned. When I see the 
person from one side I think I see the limits ; when I change my 
position I see it was the fault of my vision. 

" Generous 1 " 

Yes, a generous character. I can't take in the whole at once. Do 
you remember the story in the book about the chameleon? I'll try 
to get far enough off to see the whole. A good deal of fun in him I 
know. 

" Is there any there ? " 

I don't know — a good deal of fun in the person. You have seen a 
beautiful autumn day, with wind and shadows tiying over the land- 
scape. This person is like that. 

" Is he solitary or social ? " 

Both, solitary in society and social in solitude. 

"Versatile?" 

Every question you ask with two sides makes me want to say both. 
Perhaps because she is truer than most persons and follows her im- 
pulses. Mr. Clarke's voice sounded so terribly solemn it made me 
laugh. This person has a good generous heart. 

" Is she amiable?" 



PSYCHOMETRIC READINGS. 241 

That is too tame a word. 

" Sensitive r' 

No — perhaps he is — you would find him always where you did 
not expect. 

" Mathematical mind, or a lover of the arts 1 " 

He would have a true love of the arts — not like to see great gal- 
leries so much as one or two really good things — would criticise 
them. He has a noble soul. 

" Does he neglect things not beautiful 1 " 

He finds beauty in almost everything. 

" Is he, then, free from contempt 1 " 

No, he feels contempt for what is truly low. 

" Is it a musical soul 1 " 

A wild music. 

" What is the sphere of life ? " 

I can't think of his being engaged in any settled business. 

" Is he the object of love ] " 

Yes, I should think so. 

(To R. W. E.) Do you know him? " Yes." 

(To R. W. E.) Do you love him 1 

(R. W. E.) " No, love is not exactly the word." 

He would not care much for approbation. 

" What is the controlling impulse 1 Is it religious 1 " • 

There is a good deal of religion in him — he is very hard to 
describe. 

"Does he desire love?" 

He feels the want of it rather than the desire for it. 

" What makes him sad ] " 

I don't know. 

" Is it want of a sphere of action 1 " 

Perhaps it is, I have only taken an outside view. 

" Is there depth as well as width 1 " 

(Bows her head affirmatively.) 

A sad, deep, earnest feeling — so earnest in this letter. The whole 
life seems a prayer — pressing onward — a struggle — life seems so 
earnest. 

*' What difference is there in the two letters 1 " 

There is more of soul in the note. (" Which was written first 1 ") 

The note seems written first, but seems older. 

16 



242 APPENDIX. 

" Is there more soul in it ? " Yes. 

" Is it a contented person 1 " 

No. She has not attained perfect command of herself — she is 
striving to improve her character. 

" A lover of nature % " 

Yes. It seems a different lover of nature from the other. I won- 
der if the person had not come to nature through thought rather 
than feeling 1 

" Sunrise or sunset, which does it love ] " 

I should think sunrise. You have been up a high hill — seen hill 
beyond hill arise as you ascended. This character is like that. 

(To R. W. E.) Have you ever had much intercourse with this 
person 1 You have had a great deal of influence upon him. 

"Is the person very susceptible of influence]" 

I should think not, but I have felt several times that you have had 
influence on the person. He may not be aware of it. You have sent 
him down deeper into his own soul. 

" Is this influence reciprocal ] " 

There are certain points in the character that have commanded 
your respect. I think he has influenced you, not so much as you have 
him. 

Mr. Emerson does not understand this person fully. He says he 
does not love him, but I think he ought to. He wrongs his own 
nature and the writer also by not loving him. 

It seems as if she had toiled up an ascent with her back toward 
the landscape, and when she reached the summit she tasted of happi- 
ness — had not known the meaning of the word before. 

" Does she stay on this summit ] " 

No, she is not a stayer. 

My head feels very full — a tendency to thought. 

This is a large person, much developed, not wholly. She is not the 
creature of society. Has a mind that would search and see things in 
their true relations — would see into the centre. 

" Has the person patience 1 " 

She has much patience, but not enough. She strives to be white, 
whole, I mean, and to say things in a white light. 

" Is there poetry in her life ? " 

Her whole life is a poem. I don't know if she cares for influence 
over otliers ; she might originally have loved power. 



PSYCHOMETRIC READINGS. 243 

" Is she sensitive 1 " 

She ought not to be, but I feel as if she is. 

"Is she proud or humble]" 

Has a good deal of humility and pride too. Might be thought 
more proud than she is. Would speak of herself as of another. 

" Does she love reasoning? " 

Has loved it more than she does. Could not help speaking truth ; 
she sees truths in themselves and in their relations to one another. 

"Does society content this mind?" 

I was just looking back upon her past life — terrible at first — 
much loathing and contempt. I don't know how to express it strong 
enough, this feeling towards herself. After a time came hope — a 
better, truer view. Mucli to struggle with. Now she has only occa- 
sionally those retrospections. 

" Are her hopes high 1 " 

She has high, very high hopes. At times she is transfigured. It 
was such a relief your asking me that question. 

" What objects in her thoughts are most grateful ? Books, pic- 
tures, action, or society 1 " 

She finds great pleasure in thoughts, in friends, high friends ; can 
be a real friend, is one of the few that can. Would derive pleasure 
from music and drawings. A kindred pleasure she would get from 
those things. I can't express it. If we were only in that vehicular 
state how nice it would be. She would appreciate an action more 
than she once would, sees true greatness bettei-. As she grows older 
she grows younger. I don't see how she can be contented with the 
present state of society. 

"What makes her love her friends? Is that excellence or a 
defect ? " 

An excellence. She is one that is worthy the name of friend. 
Would be herself and wish her friend to be herself. One could be 
true with her. One could receive benefits from her without being 
degraded. She is seeking to perfect herself. The farther she gets on, 
the more she has to do and the more subtle her temptations are. 
" Is it a strong character, or a peculiar one ? " 
Peculiar. Oh ! much more than I thought at first. 
" Put your hand here and say can she love commonplace people ? " 
I don't like to put my hand there. I was in a higher state 
before. 



244 APPENDIX. 

" Is this truer to her than the other? " 

It was au uupleasant change. I did not feel myself one of the 
human family. (I will read it to you presently). 

I do not want to hear. 

(By C. S. " Is she good for the sake of goodness, or because 
she wished to he perfect herself?") 

There is gentleness, tenderness, refined delicacy — at times she might 
wound the feelings of otl)ers, but would not do it consciously for the 
world, unless she would wound to heal. She would not hesitate to 
speak the truth if she knew it w^ould do good. Has yet to have more 
patience and charity. She can't understand weakness, she is so strong 
herself I think she wilK Has insight into character, would feel what 
persons were when she had seen them very little; once it was by 
thought, now it is more by instinct. Goes backward to go forward, is 
younger as she is older, has more instinct than she used to have. 

" Is it a soft, or splendid nature 1 " 

I don't like the word "splendid." A larger person than most of 
those about us. She is not whole yet, wants more patience. 

"Is it pleasant to consider this character'?" 

Oh, I like her very much. I should love to be with her. I should 
like to be in the same room, but should not care to have her address 
her conversation especially to me. 

" Has she powers of conversation V 

Great powers. I think she is a veri/ true person. 

JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 

A subdued warmth and determination. The subdued warmth 
gives all the more force to his character. A strong, compact char- 
acter, — a good deal of honesty, integrity, fairness, uprightness — 
in public life. He is decidedly honest, and you seldom find a 
politician who is so. He may be irritable. He is impatient, yet 
lias a great deal of patience — endurance. He has been successful 
in public life, more so than he knows — a true success. He has 
had bitter enemies, but will live them down and be better estimated 
by posterity. ' Is a just man, has a good deal of warmth — deep 
warmth — fire. Is an eloquent man — his thoughts come with great 
rapidity and force — a perfect torrent. I feel very feeble and yet 
very strong. He has much combativeness — is a religious man — a 



PSYCHOMETRIC READINGS. 245 

man of great veneration. He has much knowledge ; his mind is a 
rich store-house and he would know just where to find the fact he 
wanted for the occasion — very systematic. I tremble all over and 
I yet feel so strong as if I could face a thousand. Has great 
energy — good deal of poetry and imagination — a great deal of 
judgment and sagacity, seldom find the two so largely combined — 
very moral person — great thinker and reasoner — great insight into 
matters and things. When opposed feels strong in his own integrity 
— likes opposition to a certain extent. Combativeness is pi-ominent 
in his character. Will be looked upon by ages to come as a sort of 
monument. He seems so compact, a sort of solid honesty. A laro'e 
but not a whole man. Not a perfect character. Has great self- 
respect, and his justice would lead him to speak of himself as he 
would of another ; therefore he might be called vain. 

"Are you sure he is living?" 

He seems so to me, but he has one foot in the grave, is very 
excitable. 

" Is he a slave-holder 1 " 

I disdain to answer the question. 

" How would he feel about the annexation of Texas ? " 

I have said he is an honest, upright, just man. Your question 
makes the blood tingle in all my veins. He is very excitable at times. 
Who can stand before his indignation at injustice or oppression] 
The subject of this letter agitates and excites him deeply. Though 
so feeble, I tremble in every limb, yet I could face the world if need 
be. Has great moral courage. I can hardly hold the letter in my 
trembling hands, yet I am strong, firm, unshaken, and unshakable. 
He has not met with more success than he believes, has laid the 
foundation for success. He does his duty to the best of his ability. 
The death of his friends would affect him more than would be sup- 
posed from his strength of character, but their misconduct more, 
though his affections would never interfere with his justice. Is a 
patriot — loves his country. He is obstinate, takes up strong, im- 
movable prejudices. He will always do his duty, tho' sometimes con- 
trary to his friends' expectations. This would trouble him, for he 
loves the approbation of friends, but his own more. He would state 
principles he believed true if all the world were against him. 
Eminently a just man. 

March 29, 184i. J^^N QuiNCY AdaMS. 



246 APPENDIX. 



A. BRONSON ALCOTT. 

A slow warmth. It affects me rather sadly. Either the subject 
of the letter or the person is anxious, earnest, not very happy, feels 
deeply, not very mirthful. Much warmth, not apparent at first. I'm 
strongly impressed with sadness, seriousness. Stern realities of life 
affect him. The person is interested in reform. Not much of a 
talker — desire to reflect rather than to talk. Deficient in 
physical strength. Not that clear view of things that I received 
from J. Q. A. Thinker, dwells in abstractions. Organs of foresight, 
&c., active — much insight, not trifier but very serious, not enough 
that is light in his character to counterbalance this seriousness. 
Much spirituality — not very happy — chai-acter not equally de- 
veloped — not an unpleasant impression — more love of power per- 
haps than self-esteem. Things not realities to others are stern 
realities to him. He lives rather in the world of thought than that 
of the affections. Not a common character — quite deep — a difficult 
character to speak of. Doubtful if his views are clear to himself and 
if he has facility in imparting them to others. His thoughts are clearer 
than they seem, they are so deep — for 

"Thoughts are deeper than all speech." 

Calm — not impetuous, but impulsive — self-control — love of 
truth in highest sense — love of perfect honesty — perfect justice — 
perfect sincerity — through faith in these, benefits others. Does good 
by being rather than doing. His influence is great. He combines 
highest goodness with some little weaknesses. Very unlike J. Q. A. 
— could not comprehend each other. He could not begin to have his 
own opinions and plans thwai'ted. Irritable, but calm. Must speak 
slowly, say just the right words in just the right way. Gentle, want- 
ing in character perhaps — apparent coldness. 

"Has he succeeded in life*?" Does not give me the impression of 
success. His aims are high and thus he does much good, also by his 
faith in what might be done. He should not be wholly satisfied with 
his life because of his little weaknesses. Might appear selfish, not 
from regarding self-interest but from forgetfulness of others. He is 



PSYCHOMETRIC READINGS. 247 

wrapt up in himself, not because he is himself, but in the prin- 
ciples of which he considers himself the embodiment. A perplexing 
character — one of much beauty, purity, ideality. 

" Is he a clergyman 1 " In one way he ministers to others, but I do 
not think him a clergyman. Seems a teacher to teachers by his life 
— more useful as a sign-post pointing the right way than as a guide. 
He may think he has attained more than he has. Almost seems not 
living, were it not for some earthly clogs. Seems so spiritual. Not 
in the so-called actual world as much as most. Not a business man 
surely. The idea of him in State Street — "on 'Change" — is too 
ludicrous — as soon expect a ghost down there. Know not where he 
would be at home. " In Community 1 " Know not that he would 
be happy in Community. Most himself in a twilight room, calmly re- 
flecting or speaking in alow, gentle tone thoughts as they arise. He 
can be agitated and excited, more so than I thought. He would not 
like opposition to his view. Not very tolerant of the weakness of 
others — does not see his own — very pure — more decision than firm- 
ness — a restless spirit seeking his sphere, which he has not found. 
Aim is very high and in right direction. Does not take in all parts 
of his nature. Does not always remember that he is an embodied 
spirit. Activity of organs in centre of forehead — foresight, etc., 
etc., injure his health. Eather a spiritual than a human being. 

A. B. Alcott. 
March 29, 1844. 



248 APPENDIX. 



My father's account book for the first years of his marriage give 
some interesting items of domestic economy. The first house was 
on Belknap Street, which is still standing, and it is curious to compare 
the price of rent then with that of to-day. 

Items. 

House in Belknap Street. Agreed with Joseph H. Whiting to continue 
at his house at two hundred ninety-five dollars ($295) per year's rent. 
Dec. 4, 1826, moved into Tilden's house. Hay ward Place. Rent $425. 

Price of Service. 

Nov. 28, 1826. Dolly Gilraan commenced her service at 7/6 — $1.25 per 
week. 

June 5, 1828. Bridget Daley came at 7/6 per week. 
September, 1820. Charlotte Cross came for $1 per week. 

For Furniture. 

Total of expenses for the first year, $778.80, of which $100 was given by 
Grandfather. The second year the cost was $40.60. 

Time-piece $25. — 1 doz. cut glass tumblers $3.50 — Do. Wines $3.50. 

The total amount for house expenses without furniture was $1041.85. 

For 1821, two years after marriage, wife's account was $67.04, husband's 
$85.99, Mary F., child, 13.85, provisions and liquor $231.97. 

For 1822 the total expense is $1183.37. Provisions $387.53. Wood 
$80.31. Wages $57. Wife's account $70.27. Husband's account $117.76. 

In 1823, $1057.96. Provisions, $389.91. The price of yeast does not 
vary, two cents are charged. Wood is $35.38 per 6^ cords, sawing $5.52. 

Flour $17.00 a barrel, butter 20 cts., beef-steak 9 cts., eggs 18 cts., cheese 
9 cts., 1 turkey 74 cts. 

10 buckets of coal at 23 cts. per bucket. Goose 56 cts. Corned-beef 5 
cts. Barrel apples $3.50. 1 Cod-fish 25. 2 lemons 12. Milk $2.50. 
Peck apples 62. Passage to Exeter $3.00. Lobster 12. Asparagus 18. 
Dates 6. \ doz. pigeons 38. Postage 10 cts. 

1 pair ducks 75, 1 bbl. Kussetts $1.50. 1 goose 31. 1 qt. Strawberries 
25. Potatoes 37 per bushel. 

Stage fare to Gloucester $4.00. 

A party to Columbian Museum $1 .50. 

Pew Tax $5.35. 



APPENDIX. 249 

Theatre to see Wallack $2.00. 
Museum to hear the dwarfs sing $1.00. 

Ticket in lottery $5.00. Museum with Hannah P. Dow 50 cts. 
Carriage to take an airing |2.00 and $1.00. 
Horse and chaise to Exeter $10.00. 
Carriage to a \vhist party 50 cts. 
Dr. Gorham's bill |22.00, 

Theatre to see Kean $3.80. Wife's passage to E.teter $2.00. 
Theatre to see Cooper in Romeo $3.00. Recovering umbrella |4.00. 
Theatre to see Mathews with Elizabeth and Mr. Babson $8.19. 
Leghorn Bonnet $13.50. Goose 37. Parasol $6.00. Gloves 33 Gloves 
60. 



INDEX OF NAMES 

OP 

PRINCIPAL PERSONS MENTIONED. 



Abbot, Benjamin, 31. 

Abbot, Francis E., 147. 

Abbot, Joseph Hale, 19, 20, 21, 39. 

Adams, John Quincy, 244, 246, 247. 

Adams, Nehemiah, 90. 

Alcott, A. Brousou, 25, 100, 121, 122, 

143, 147, 182, 187, 189, 190, 202, 244, 

246. 
Alcott, Abby May, 142. 
Alcott, Louisa M., 41, 64, 67, 190. 
AUstou, Washington, 130, 146, 184. 
Ames, Joseph, 133. 
Armstrong, Gen. S. C, 97. 

Babcock, William, 139. 
Ball, Thomas, 137. 
Bartol, Cyrus, 147, 232. 
Bartol, Elizabeth, 142. 
Beecher, Henry Ward, 49. 
Bellows, Albert, 75. 
Besant, Walter, 67. 
Billings, Hammatt, 132. 
Blackvvell, Elizabeth R., 60. 
Bond, Hugh L., 87, 88. 
Bonheur, Rosa, 144. 
Booth, Junius Brutus, 171. 
Botume, Elizabeth Hyde, 90. 
Bowditch, Henry I., 30. 
Brackett, Edward, 63. 
Bradford, Sarah H., 81. 
Brown, John, 81, 82. 
Browning, Elizabeth Barrett, 208. 
Bruce, Georgiana, 199. 
Bryant, William CuUen, 132. 



Buchanan, Joseph R., 78, 79. 
Butler, Josephine, 120, 169. 

Caxedt, Bessy, 88. 

Carlyle, Thomas, 187, 188, 212. 

Chauning, Eva, 86. 

Channing, William Henry, 147, 181, 

182, 183, 193, 196, 202, 331. 
Chapman, Maria Weston, 211. 
Chase, Lucy, 88. 
Chase, Sarah, 88. 
Cheney, Harriet, 134, 142. 
Cheney, Jane, 49, 50, 51, 239. 
Cheney, John, 49, 67, 68, 132, 136, 

141." 
Cheney, Margaret Swan, 86, 119. 
Cheney, Seth W., 59, 132, 133, 136, 141, 

144, 146, 238. 
Child, Lydia Maria, 112, 192, 195, 211. 
Choate, Rufus, 117. 
Clark, Jane M., 146. 
Clarke, James Freeman, 61, 124, 182, 

188, 193, 214. 
Clarke, Sarah F., 130, 145, 146, 184. 
Crafts, Ellen, 83. 
Crafts, William, 83, 115. 
Cranch, Christopher P., 138, 183. 
Crocker, Lucretia, 85, 89, 90, 91, 92, 

93, 95, 98, 159. 
Curtis, Augusta R., 60, 74. 
Cushing, Lucy, 17. 

Dall, Caroline H., 60. 
Dana, Sarah B., 53. 



252 



INDEX OF NAMES. 



Dimock, Susan, 67. 

Dix, John H., 35. 

Dow, Ednah, 26. 

Dow, Jane W., 58. 

Dow, Jeremiah, 2. 

Dubourjal, Saviuien Edome, 141. 

Dwight, John S., 181, 183, 186, 188. 

Edgeworth, Maria, 30. 

Elder, William, 71. 

Eliot, Charles W., 135. 

Emerson, Ealph Waldo, 3, 42, 43,49, 
61, 99, 122, 127, 133, 135, 138, 143, 
147, 181, 182, 183, 187, 188, 189, 193, 
199, 206, 213, 214, 217, 233, 242. 

Emerson, Waldo, 126, 127, 214. 

Faenham, Eliza, 192. 

Fawcett, Henry, 120. 

Fenuer, George, 45. 

Fields, James T., 32, 41. 

Fisher, John D., 12, 69. 

Flagg, Dr., 72. 

Foley, Margaret, 76, 145. 

Follen, Eliza Lee, 136, 147, 192. 

Folsom, Abby, 112, 113, 114, 115. 

Fowle, William B., 10, 15, 17, 18, 19,65. 

Francis, Abby, 88, 89. 

Frothingham, James, 131. 

Frothiugham, O. B., 123, 125, 147. 

Fuller, George, 141. 

Fuller, Margaret, 28, 99, 100, 101, 126, 

130, 143, 146, 182, 183, 184, 185, 186, 

187, 192-222, 240. 
Furness, William, 70, 71, 75, 137. 

Gannett, Ezra S., 90. 

Gannett, William C, 85, 90. 

Garibaldi, Giuseppe, 219. 

Garrison, William Lloyd, 36, 8.5, 120, 

121. 
Goddard, Lucy, 61, 62, 148, 155. 
Goddard, Matilda, 105, 107, 108, 109. 
Gore, Anne, 53, 103. 
Graham, John, 87. 
Greeley, Horace, 199, 214. 
Greene, Elizabeth, 142. 
Grimke, Angelina, 156. 
Grimke, Archibald, 156. 
Grimke, Sarah, 156. 
Gurne\', Ellen, 85. 



Hale, Edward Everett, 16. 

Hale, John P., 46, 47, 48. 

Hale, Susan, 142. 

Haliburton, Mary Ann, 26, 27. 

Hardy, Ednah, 2. 

Harris, Wm. T. 100, 122, 126, 190. 

Harrison, William Henry, 23, 25. 

Hawthorne, Nathaniel, 183, 206. 

Healy, George P. A., 47, 48. 

Hedge, Frederick H., 181, 183, 188. 

Higginson, Thomas Wentworth, 85, 86, 

147, 149, 163, 189, 193, 196, 201, 206. 
Hill, Mrs., 72, 74. 
Hillard, George, 43. 
Hoar, Elizabeth, 127. 
Holley, Horace, 29, 101. 
Hooper, Edward W., 85, 157. 
Hosmer, Harriet, 145. 
Hovey, Charles F., 57, 112, 113. 
Howe, Julia Ward, 75, 151, 152, 155, 

158, 160, 193, 199, 208, 237. 
Howe, Samuel G., 13. 
Howitt, Mary, 146. 
Howitt, William, 146. 
Hudson, Henry Norman, 24. 
Hunt, Harriot Kezia, 51, 52, 53, 60, 72. 
Hunt, William M. 138, 139. 
Hutchinson, Anne, 180. 
Hugo, Victor, 129. 

Ibsen, Henrik, 67. 

Jackson, Franci.s, 114. 

Jacobs, Harriet, 80. 

Janes, Lewis G., 149, 163. 

Johnson, Eastman, 138. 

Johnson, Samuel, 44, 54, 118, 147, 224. 

Joinville, Prince de, 34. 

King, Thomas Starr, 42. 
Koehler, S. R. 68. 
Kossuth, Louis, 111. 

Lamson, Silas, 114, 115. 
Lane, Mrs. Jonathan, 85. 
Leighton, Rufus, 105. 
Lewes, George Henry, 79. 
Lincoln, Abraham, 124. 
Littlehale, Anna W., 102, 126. 
Littlehale, Elizabeth D., 13. 
Littlehale, Helen P., 119. 



INDEX OF NAMES. 



253 



Littlehale, Mary Frances, 13, 106. 
Littlehale, Richard, 4. 
Littlehale, Sargeut S., 12. 
Longfellow, H. W., 135. 
Longfellow, Samuel, 148. 
Lowe, Mary S., 30, 31. 
Lowell, Janies Russell, 75, 100, 101, 133, 
135, 230. 

Mason, Jeremiah, 233. 

Mason, Lowell, 16. 

May, Abbie W., 74, 75, 85, 86, 87, 133, 

159. 
May, Eleanor, 86. 
May, Frederick W. G., 37. 
May, Samuel, 39. 
May, Samuel J., 83, 118. 
Mazziui, Giuseppe, 212, 213, 217. 
Mellen, Geo. W., HI. 
Millet, Jean Francois, 59, 139, 140, 

185. 
Mills, Charles A. B., 148. 
Miner, Alonzo, A., 66. 
Moore, Rebecca, 120. 
Mott, Lucretia, 71, 148. 
Mott, Valentine, 51. 
Murray, John, 52. 

Nightingale, Florence, 232. 
Norton, Charles Eliot, 75, 188. 

Ohlenhauser, Mrs., 76. 
Otis, Harrison Gray, 130. 
G,sgood, Lucy, 118. 

Page, William, 1.33, 134, 135. 

Paine, Thomas, 181. 

Parker, Ednah, 2, 3. 

Parker, Theodore, 3, 5, 22, 25, 33, 49, 

52, 54, 99, 101, 102, 103, 104, 106, 107, 

110, 111, 112, 113, 115, 116, 119, 124, 

168, 181, 182, 188, 225, 231. 
Parkman, John, 30, 46, 85, 157. 
Parsons, Anna Q. T., 72. 
Peabody, Elizabeth P., 69, 125, 155, 182, 

183, 192, 204, 210. 
Peabody, Lucia M., 159. 
Peabody, Nathaniel C, 69. 
Pemherton, Joanna, 9, 10. 
Pemberton, Mary E. R. R., 9, 10, 18. 
Perkins, Stephen, 142. 



Philbrick, John D., 49, 
Phillips, Wendell, 112, 114, 117. 
Pickens, James, 6. 
Pierpont, John, 29. 
Potter, William J., 147. 
Powers, Hiram, 133. 

Rantoul, Robert, 36. 
Ranch, Christian Daniel, 67. 
Reed, Edward, 3, 4. 
Richai'dson, James, 44, 45, 102. 
Rimmer, William, 141, 144. 
Ripley, George, 183. 
Ripley, Mary A., 151. 
Ripley, Sophia, 192. 
Robbins, Ellen, 76. 
Roosevelt, Theodore, 154, 169. 
Rowse, Samuel, 133. 

Sanborn, Frank B., 100, 130, 190. 

Sargent, John T., 72, 147. 

Scheffer, Ary, 139, 185. 

Scott, David, 83, 121, 143, 144, 213. 

Scott, Winfield, 23. 

Sedgwick, Catherine, 192. 

Sen, Kesho Chunder, 148. 

Sewall, Harriet E., 67. 

Sewall, Harriet W., 67, 236. 

Shannon, Mary C, 28, 45, 53, 69. 

Shannon, Mary, Jr., 55. 

Sliaw, Anna, 35. 

Shaw, Lemuel, 139. 

Shaw, Robert G., 83, 84, 235. 

Silliman, Benjamin, 102. 

Smith, Dorcas, 21. 

Smith, .Jeremiah, 31. 

Smith, Jeremiah, Jr., 31. 

Spear, John F., 114. 

Spring, Marcus, 202, 212, 213. 

Spring, Rebecca B., 202, 212, 213. 

Spurzheim, Johann Caspar, 18. 

Staigg, Richard, 137. 

Stevenson, Hannah E , 85, 88, 105. 

Story. William, 138. 

Stuart, Gilbert, 129, 131. 

Sumner, Charles, 37, 74, 118, 146. 

Taylor, Peter, 120, 121. 
Tennyson, Alfred, 207. 
Thayer, Caroline, 107. 
Townsend, Elizabeth, 70. 



254 



INDEX OF NAMES. 



Trumbull, John, 129, 130. 
Tubman, Harriet, 81. 
Tyler, John, 23. 

Van Buren, Martin, 22, 
Villari, Pasquale, 219, 221, 222. 

Walker, Amasa, 20. 

Walker, Ariana S., .57. 

Walter, Cornelia, 23, 25, 64. 

Walter, Lynde, 24, 26, 64. 

Ward, Samuel G., 72. 

Washington, Booker T., 55, 153, 154, 

156. 
Wasson, David A., 67, 123, 124,125, 148. 
Webster, Daniel, 31, 32, 33, 47, 48, 117, 

133, 137. 
Weiss, John, 54, 147. 



Weld, Theodore, 117, 156. 
Wesselhoefft, William, 69. 
West, Benjamin, 129. 
Wliipple, Charles K., 117, 168. 
Whipple, Edwin P., 117. 
Whitney, Anne, 145. 
Whittier, John G., 94, 101, 157. 
Willard, Frances E., 105. 
Williams, Ann, 14. 
Willis, N. P., 80, 81. 
Willis, Mrs., 81. 
Wild, Hamilton, 134. 
Wintlirop, Theodore, 46. 
Wyman, Lillie Chase, 156. 

Young, Alexander 29, 30. 

Zakrzewska, Marie Elizabeth, 60. 




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